


Ability

by camichats



Series: Dictionary Prompts [31]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Attempted Murder, Background Steve Rogers/James Rhodes, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Communication, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Steve Rogers, Permanent Injury, Prosthesis, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Issues, Scars, Self-Worth Issues, Serious Injuries, Talking, not as dark as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Tony knows there's an issue in his company, now he just has to find it and fix it. Easier said than done. His boyfriend is down an arm and doesn't look happy to see him, his best friend is mad at him, and he doesn't know who to trust.He's had better years.





	1. Dust

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of [Abide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918558). I suggest you read that first otherwise this could get confusing. 
> 
> Archive Warning for 'Graphic Violence' comes later, I'll let you know when it comes around. Also I couldn't find a tag for 'recovering alcoholic' but that is something Tony's working on through this fic. In this chapter, he mocks his progress, just fyi.

Tony and Bucky weren’t married, and he wasn’t Bucky’s medical proxy. Aka, he had no _fucking_ idea what was going on aside from Steve’s occasional call, and even those were over with because he had to go back out in field. “Wh- you’re going back out there? Already?”

Steve sighed, and Tony could hear that he was just as-- if not more-- aggravated with the situation as Tony was. “Yeah. Nobody else in the unit was hurt, and because Bucky’s been discharged we aren’t waiting for him to recover. Things are busy, apparently,” he said bitterly.

“There’s uh.” Tony rubbed at his head, trying to remember the word. “Armor. Body armor, it’s being negotiated, you should see some soon. It should- help. Some.”

“Okay.”

There was an awkward pause. Tony wanted to vent, to tell Steve that he was doing his damn best to fix everything, but it had only been two weeks and he was only one man, and a man who didn’t know who to trust other than Jarvis. He swallowed it down; whining wouldn’t help anything. He couldn’t help but ache for a few months ago, back when Steve actually liked him. Ignorance is what fucked him over in the first place, so even if he _could_ somehow relive that time, he wouldn’t want to. “I know it’s a long shot, but could you tell Bucky I want to talk to him again?”

“I will,” he said, the “he won’t want to” clear in his tone, but Tony appreciated it all the same. Tony had asked every call, and Bucky never wanted to.

“How’s he doing? Do you know when he’s getting sent back?” Tony could and _would_ drop everything to see him, but with everything the way it was right now, he’d actually prefer to give people some warning. Having to cancel a meeting ten minutes beforehand and then trying to convince them to help you for something that wouldn’t benefit them… yeah, it wouldn’t be good.

Steve cleared his throat uncomfortably. “He asked me not to tell you. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Tony said numbly, heart falling. That wasn’t a simple “I don’t want to talk to you because I’m down a limb and dealing with the trauma so I’m not ready to talk to _anyone_ ”, that was “You were fun, but now shit’s serious”. “Um. Okay, that’s fine. Just uh, let him know that if he needs anything he can ask.”

“Okay.” There was another long pause. “I’d better get going.”

“Yeah. Stay safe Steve.”

“Just give him time Tony,” Steve said, then hung up.

Tony swallowed thickly, gripping his phone tightly and still holding it to his ear. Time would help Bucky, but he didn’t think it would help _them_. He’d told Bucky he loved him, and Bucky had never said it back, and that used to be fine but now- well, now he wanted a drink. Sober for one whopping week woo fucking hoo set off the fireworks. It didn’t mean anything; he hadn’t made any progress on who was fucking up his company, and he couldn’t figure out how to power any of his prosthetic designs so he couldn’t even offer Bucky that.

“Sir,” Jarvis interjected softly, but Tony still jumped.

“Yeah J?”

“Miss Potts requests your presence in her office.”

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Right now?”

“She says it’s urgent.”

That was promising, at least. He’d just met her, but she seemed like someone who had their life perfectly put together no matter what happened. Maybe if he spent enough time around her some of it would rub off on him. “Tell her I’ll be right there.” He stood, finally putting his phone in his pocket. “How do I look?”

“As dashing as ever, sir.”

Tony snorted. “Thanks buddy.”

“However if you want to make a good impression, you might want to fix your hair.”

“That’s the sort of thing you mention the first time J.”

“As you say, sir.”

Tony shook his head and went to the nearest mirror. “Snark. In my own home. I’m hurt, J, not sure I’ll be able to recover from this. You might have to move out to make room for my new child, one with respect.”

“I believe you will find it in your heart to let me stay, as you do with DUM-E, no matter how many times he accidentally tries to poison you. As of yesterday, he should have been sent to community college or McDonald’s five hundred and eighty seven times.”

“Yeah, but he’s the trouble child. I expect more from you.” He looked in the mirror and made a face. He’d run his hands through his hair at some point-- probably during his call with Steve-- and now it was sticking up. He ran his fingers through it to try and tame it back down, and was mostly successful.

“Both of us are trouble-makers, just like our father. Expecting too much from me will leave you disappointed.”

Something about the wording hit too close to home, and Tony reassured him, “You could never disappoint me J.”

“Glad to hear it, sir.”

He fiddled with his hair a moment longer and decided it was good enough. In the past two weeks, Ms. Potts had seen worse from him, and he was sure there was worse to come. As soon as he walked into her office, she said, “This is too much.” She was sitting at her desk, multiple screens up with countless numbers and dates showing.

Tony paused. She’d only been doing this two weeks, and it had _seemed_ like she not only had a handle on it, but thoroughly enjoyed the hunt. “Quitting already?” he asked mildly, moving to stand beside her.

She gave him the stink eye and continued, “There’s too much going on. All the inconsistencies seem like multiple patterns that are not at all connected to each other.”

“Watkins was being bribed by more than person.”

“That’s certainly what the situation appears to be.”

“Great. Any other news you want to share?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“If we let that stop us, we’d be sipping mai tai’s on a Malibu beach right now. What is it?”

She brought one screen forward and pointed at the highlighted lines. “This is the money linked to lost inventory and this,” she pulled up another window, “shows who it’s going to.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Where does the bad part come in? Cause right now I kinda want to give you a raise.”

“You won’t in a minute,” she muttered. “Long story short, this money could only go to two people, and we know that you’re innocent.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. Ms. Potts wasn’t usually one to draw things out like this. “So who’s the other person?”

“Obadiah Stane.”

Tony immediately shook his head, and Ms. Potts sighed like she’d expected that-- which she had. “Tony, I’ve checked it a dozen times, I’m not wrong about this.”

“Obie wouldn’t do that.”

“I have the proof right here.”

Tony pushed the screens away and turned to her. “I don’t care. Obie’s a lot of things, and a patriot is one of them. He would never sell to America’s enemies.”

“I’m not saying he did,” she said patiently, although it was clear she didn’t share Tony’s confidence. “I’m saying that he’s one of the people who was bribing Watkins, and that he is responsible for millions of dollars of missing inventory. What he did after that, I don’t know, but he definitely stole from the company and covered it up.”

Tony clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. There was nothing good Obadiah could be doing with a stockpile of weapons, but he would very much prefer to hear that he was selling to gangs than to someone they were at war with. There was bad, and there was treason. Bad he could work with, treason he couldn’t. “Good work Potts. Will you send me all the info, and sheets, and… I don’t know, whatever else you did?”

“Of course. You can call me Pepper, by the way, since you insist I call you Tony.”

Tony frowned, letting her distract him. “You’re name’s Pepper? Do you have a twin named Salt? Cause if you don’t, I’m sorry, but your parents were just wrong in this decision.”

“It’s a nickname, one my parents despise actually.”

Tony nodded. “I’d love to hear that story sometime.”

“After the dust clears maybe.”

“After the dust clears,” he agreed. “Anything else?”

“Not at the moment. By the way, Mr. Stark,” she called as he walked away, “if you’re going to a meeting, you might want to fix your hair.”

Tony snorted. “Will do, Ms. Potts.” He walked to the elevator, back straight and posture proud, only to slump over when the doors closed and he was alone. “Jarvis, give that woman a raise.”

“Will do, sir. Shall I send her a necklace as well?”

“Getting Daddy in trouble is mean, Jarvis, you’re not supposed to do that.”

He hummed. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“I’m sure you will.”


	2. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little warning for Tony's alcoholism in this chapter, it's nothing graphic but he does mess up one night :(

Tony changed into his sweats, started the coffee machine, and set himself up at the kitchen table. It wasn’t late, but he wouldn’t be able to get any work done until he’d reviewed Pepper’s work and confirmed that it was Obadiah. He wanted to bust into Obadiah’s office and demand to know what the hell he was playing at, but he held himself back. This backhanded business was making him double question everything, and there wouldn’t be any coming back from accusing Obie of something like that. He wanted to trust Pepper but apparently trusting other people is what got him into this mess in the first place.

He went to the liquor cabinet before he knew what he was doing. It was only when he opened the door and saw it was empty that he noticed what he’d tried to do. He slammed it shut with a scowl, marching over to his chair and glaring at nothing until the cup of coffee was ready. He added a generous amount of heavy cream and sugar, took a sip, and settled in for a long night.

Accounting numbers were _very_ different from engineering numbers, and he had never been more aware of that fact than he was right now. Jarvis helped him along when he got muddled, and a few hours in suggested break.

“I don’t need to take a break, J, I need to figure this out.”

“Sir, Miss Potts spent a week and a half on this project.”

“She was finding everything for the first time, that’s not the same.”

“A person in her dedicated field spending a week and a half understanding this, versus you, an outsider to this work, attempting to understand it in one night… interesting,” Jarvis said loftily.

Tony glared at the nearest camera. “You are one sneaky son of a bitch.”

“I’m _your_ son sir.”

“Yes, and plenty of people have called me a bitch.”

“Have they?” Jarvis asked, amused. “I have no record of that.”

“Well, Rhodey did in MIT. A lot, so I think it counts.”

DUM-E chose that moment to wheel in, holding a bag of takeout and chirping in excitement. Building him his own elevator from the workshop to the penthouse was a very special kind of foolish decision, but it allowed for moments like this. He set the bag in front of Tony and looked to him for approval.

Tony huffed out a laugh and pat him on the head-- right behind his claw-- and said, “Good boy.”

DUM-E let out a content whirr and wheeled to the other side of the table, picking up Tony’s empty coffee mug and setting it on the counter. He left before the meal was over, unable to get into the DUM-E proof fridge up here and not interested in anything that wasn’t a spillable liquid.

Jarvis was right-- no surprise there-- in that it took Tony more than one night, but he refused to stop before he confirmed what Pepper told him.

Ten hours, two pots of coffee, and three meals later, he substantiated her claim. Tony let his head drop on the table with a dull thud. “ _Fuck_.”

He didn’t act on it. He took a nap, got ready for a meeting, aced it, worked in the ‘shop for an hour, took another nap, then got ready for the gala that night-- firefighters or something. It would have been awkward, but he had a lifetime of smiling and pretending everything was just peachy.

Obadiah was there, but he was networking and Tony wasn’t. He shook hands with the men that came up to him and danced with the ladies that asked. Strangely, the night was a blur, and he didn’t understand it until he woke up hungover the next day.

He clenched his jaw so tight it hurt and tried not to cry. He’d started drinking thoughtlessly when he showed up. He’d gone to the bar for a soda, but the bartender recognized him from past events, so he automatically made him a whiskey and Tony hadn’t even noticed. Someone had been simpering about something or other, and he’d taken the glass given to him without a first thought, let alone a second to realize he never ordered.

He swallowed down the vomit that wanted to come up. “Restart the calendar Jarvis.”

* * *

Obadiah was across the country working, and Tony held onto that excuse with both hands. Accusing Stark Industries’s most well established employee of stealing? Obie had helped Howard build this company from the two bit factory Tony’s grandfather had left it as, and now Tony was supposed to tell him that his ‘services were no longer required’? Yeah no. He was going to sit on that for as long as he could get away with, which, according to the pattern of how he’d been stealing, was another month and a half. Even with this proof, he didn’t believe that Obadiah was selling to America’s enemies. Stealing and pocketing the money for some extra profit? Absolutely, but he meant what he told Pepper: the man was a patriot.

Pepper found another person involved with Watkins, and they were fired, their work reviewed. Luckily, the work itself wasn’t an issue, so he didn’t have to recall or rework anything. Pepper looked into it when the work was given a clean badge and discovered that it was just the order in which he prioritized what he did. Tony almost wanted to hire them back, but Pepper glared at him until he relented. For the best, since bribery _was_ illegal.

Tony agonized over Obadiah, he agonized over Pepper’s work, but mostly he agonized over Bucky. He stared at his phone and wished he had some way of contacting him while he was in the hospital. Then he realized that Bucky could already be back in the country, and Tony would have no idea.

He channeled all his emotions into building Bucky’s arm and didn’t think about anything he was feeling.

Nothing was fine, but sometimes he was knee deep in designs, and he could forget about it for a short while.

He finished the arm and circled the prototype. It was awfully pretty if he did say so himself. Interconnected plates for flexibility and similar movement to a real arm. Individual pieces could be removed for maintenance and cleaning-- or if they got damaged. The mechanical side was only missing a power source, and honestly that wasn’t as big a problem for the idea as it was for Tony’s mind. He didn’t want people to have to _charge_ their arm.

DUM-E didn’t let him get down about it, hanging streamers and putting party hats on anything he could. Jarvis put on a swing song, and DUM-E tried to dance with Tony’s rolling chair. Mostly he bumped into tables, and the big finish sent the chair careening into one of the motorcycles. He turned to Tony sheepishly, but Tony just laughed. “Get your partner out of the gutter, butterfingers.”

He had Jarvis save a video of the dance, for  ~~if~~ when he saw Bucky next. He’d always liked DUM-E, he’d love it.

He shot Doctor Helen Cho an email, detailing the project and the nerve side of it that needed to be done. They’d worked together on projects before, and this was right up her alley. Jarvis reversed the design for the right arm, and the legs were easy to work out. Knees and ankles weren’t a problem, but the ball of the foot was trickier than he’d expected. After figuring out shoulder and fingers though, it ultimately proved little issue.

He was just about to finalize the design when the music cut and his phone rang. “J?” he asked, staring at the phone with a frown.

“I do not recognize the number, sir. Would you like me to find it?”

“No just- keep an eye on it.” It wouldn’t be the first time someone called his personal line just to threaten him after all. He grabbed his phone off the table and hoped for the best. “Hello?”

“...Tony?”

Best is what he got. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. “Bucky?”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, the sound staticy through the speakers of whatever phone he was using-- not his usual, because Tony definitely had that number. “Yeah. Sorry about this but they uh- they won’t let me go unless someone picks me up.”

“Are you at the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Shit_ yeah I- totally. Where are you?”

“LaGuardia.”

Tony had already grabbed keys, then realized he couldn’t do this without shoes. He looked at a camera and pointed at his bare foot frantically, and Jarvis flashed lights where the nearest pair was. “Okay, it- um, Bucky--”

“You don’t have to if you’re busy.” It didn’t sound like a normal brush off of “it’s okay if you’re busy”, it sounder more like “I never would have called you if you weren’t my last resort”. Tony didn’t let it bother him, not right now.

“No, no I’m not busy it’s just- it’s good to hear your voice.”

Bucky didn’t say anything.

Tony took the phone away from his ear to see if he’d hung up-- he hadn’t. “I’m on my way.”

“Okay. I came in from London,” he said, and this time he did hang up.

He wanted to bring one of his nicer cars, wanted to show Bucky… he didn’t quite know. That he was still desirable? He didn’t though; he brought the black car-- the one Happy used to drive-- thinking that Bucky would want to hide, and this was his least eye-catching vehicle. The license plate didn’t even say Stark on it.

Bucky didn’t sound happy to have to call him. He had sounded downright _miserable_ about it.

Maybe… maybe it was just the atmosphere. Bucky would spend the night in a comfortable bed, eat good food, and then he’d be pleased to see him.

He nodded decisively as he pulled into traffic. He needed a day of being back home. That’s all it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: seeing Bucky again! Any hopes/fears for how that's gonna go?


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony sees Bucky again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sexual content in this one, but it's... not explicit? I dunno, I can't write porn without the good kind of feelings.

Bucky was standing at baggage claim next to two officers, waiting for his bag.

“Hey,” Tony said, a touch breathlessly. “Glad I didn’t make you wait.” He gave Bucky a half smile when he looked at him, but then he turned away after barely a second. Tony’s smile froze on his face, but he shook it off and turned to the officers. “Was there something else you needed?”

They shared a glance. “No sir.” They saluted Bucky-- who ignored them-- then left.

“So,” Tony said, rocking back on his heels. “How was your flight?”

“I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“I wasn’t busy.”

Bucky snorted derisively.

“I _wasn’t_. And even if I was, so what? It’s not like I’d leave you here all by yourself.”

“You pity me more than you value making weapons. Great,” he said dully.

“I wasn’t making a weapon, and I don’t pity you.”

Bucky dropped his backpack and went to the carousel to lift his suitcase. He was clearly struggling, but Tony forced himself to stay back. He’d read up on how to act after an accident like this, and the number one thing everyone said was not to offer help, even if you thought they needed it. It didn’t stop him from feeling like dirt when Bucky came back, obviously upset at how much difficulty he’d had. He came back next to his backpack-- and Tony-- and hung his head in embarrassed shame, obviously wishing he had long hair to hide behind.

“Do you want to get your backpack or the suitcase?”

Not looking at him, Bucky gently pushed the suitcase in his direction and hefted his bag over his shoulder.

Tony started walking, and Bucky went beside him-- which was better than Tony was expecting. He’d thought that Bucky would trail after him like he didn’t want to be seen with him. “DUM-E’s going to be psyched to see you again. He keeps putting bananas in my smoothies. Plus I think he misses having a poking buddy.” Bucky stayed silent, but at a glance, he didn’t seem angry, so Tony kept talking. “He keeps trying to play with me, but a couple nights ago he made me set something on fire, so I think he’s learned his lesson. Then again, maybe not, because he doused me with the fire extinguisher, and he seemed awfully happy to do it. Hell, he’ll probably try to recreate the accident and hand you an extinguisher too, this time. It wasn’t even a big fire. It was like, three sparks that landed on a piece of paper.”

“I mean, I hardly ever use paper, but the projection wasn’t working for me, so I thought I’d go at it from a different angle. Not to worry, the amount of accidental fire hazard in my workshop is still negligible. On purpose is a whole other story, but DUM-E knows to be careful around those. It was a freak accident anyways, even if we _did_ try to recreate it, it probably wouldn’t work which is a good thing for once.

“Jarvis has been extra snarky lately, I’m beginning to think you taught him something the last time you were at the Tower, because I sure as hell don’t remember him being like this before. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, it’s great.” He unlocked the car, opened the trunk, and put the suitcase in.

He fiddled with the radio as they pulled out into the parking lot and made their way to the road. “So uh… where am I taking you?”

When Bucky didn’t answer, Tony glanced at him. He was staring out the window, his face resting on sullen instead of the mildly amused expression he used to have.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk,” Tony said softly, “but that’s the kind of question that actually needs a response. You can- uh, I mean if you want, you can stay with me. You probably shouldn’t be by yourself.”

“Okay,” Bucky said quietly.

“Okay,” Tony echoed. “Great.” He cleared his throat awkwardly even though he was thrilled that Bucky was coming home with him. “You can change the channel if you want.” He was filled with tumultuous thoughts the whole drive, glancing at Bucky every so often to make sure he was still there and that Tony wasn’t having a very involved hallucination. Good news: he wasn’t. Bad news: Bucky looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. The bad news could be improved though, and he held onto that idea firmly.

* * *

It didn’t get better. Bucky didn’t talk to him unless he absolutely, completely, one hundred percent had to. He wasn’t cleared to drive until his physical therapist said so, and he hated taking the subway because it felt like everyone was staring at him and judging him. His options were either to keep suffering, or to ask Tony to drive him to both his physical therapy and his mental therapy. He chose the latter, but it still felt like Bucky didn’t want him around… until, at least Tony went to talk to him one day. He wanted to talk Bucky into spoiling himself a bit, maybe with bath bombs or a pedicure or something. “Hey Bucky.”

Bucky grunted to show that he’d heard him, but otherwise didn’t react-- a compromise they’d worked out because there were honestly times that Bucky didn’t hear him and Tony needed some way of distinguishing. He was sitting on the couch, reading something on the tablet because it was easier than holding a book and having to deal with a bookmark.

“I was thinking that you should do something fun. Uh, if you want me to come along I can, but I think it’d be good for you. To do something you don’t have to, you know? Treat yourself a little. Anything you want.”

Bucky was ready to tell Tony thanks but no thanks, when he paused. “Anything I want?”

“Yep,” Tony said, excited that Bucky was considering it.

“Alright.” Bucky tossed the tablet to the other cushion and stood, walking over to him. Tony took a step back to give him space, but Bucky just crowded him against the wall and kissed him, running his hand through Tony’s hair and down to the small of his back. He moved to Tony’s neck mouthing at it but not leaving any hickies like he used to.

“Wait.”

“Mm?”

“What’re you… I mean, you…”

“You said anything I want,” he said quietly.

Tony knew he could say no, and Bucky would back off and say it was fine. He wouldn’t for a second try to pressure or guilt Tony into it, but he would be _lying_. And Tony missed him like-- well, not to be rude but-- a missing limb. He loved Bucky so much, and if there was anything he could do to help, then he always would. Having sex with Bucky again? Not a hardship, more like a dream fulfilled. And if it wasn’t under the circumstances he wanted… well no one had to know. “I did. I meant it.” He arched into Bucky and hummed when Bucky went back to kissing his neck.

“You got any lube?”

“Just in my room.”

“Condoms?”

“Also in my room.”

Bucky harrumphed unhappily and detached himself, dragging Tony along until he was sure Tony would follow by himself. “Get undressed,” Bucky ordered, digging through the bedside cabinet. He ignored the toys that were close to the front and reached further back, grabbing the bottle of lube and a condom. He tossed them on the bed and reeled Tony in for another kiss.

Tony only had his boxers on, so Bucky slid his hand under them and gripped his ass, pulling him close and grinding against him. He pushed them down Tony’s hips and told him to get on the bed. He hadn’t quite mastered the art of getting dressed and undressed yet, which made him frustrated instead of relieving his tension. It didn’t actually take him very long, but all he could think of was how much easier it used to be.

When he finished, he turned to Tony to see him lying on his back, legs spread, and fingering himself. Inexplicably, it made him angry. “I don’t need you helping me.”

“I know,” Tony said, twisting his fingers and gasping. “I missed you though.”

Bucky snorted.

Tony swallowed down the flash of hurt at how disbelieving he sounded. This was supposed to be good for him, and starting a fight over whatever feelings Bucky did and did not have for Tony wasn’t going to help.

Bucky grabbed the condom and ripped it open, having to use his teeth to do it. He rolled it on then reached for the lube, having a brief struggle with the bottle because he had to squeeze it into the same hand that was holding it. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling his fingers out and wiping them carelessly on the blanket. “Just go slow.”

Bucky climbed onto the bed but hesitated before he got close to Tony. “Could you turn over?”

Tony blinked, then did so wordlessly. It was stupid to be hurt by that, to read into it. It made perfect sense. Bucky couldn’t balance himself easily and leaning over sure as hell would make it worse for him. He grabbed a pillow for his head and wrapped his arms around it, then lifted his ass. It felt like presenting and that was fine, he’d done this with Bucky before and it had been great. He felt a blunt pressure at his entrance and took a deep breath. It lacked the-- well for lack of a better word-- romance it used to have.

It wouldn’t have been noticeable if Bucky were anyone else, but Tony had been with him before. He knew what it felt like to have Bucky touch him like he was precious and kiss him and hold him instead of getting straight to it. He put it out of his mind-- he was reading too much into the little things instead of enjoying himself.

He hissed through his teeth when Bucky pushed forward a little too quickly. “Sorry.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s just been a while.” He shifted on his knees, then nodded to himself. “I’m good, you can keep going.”

Bucky paused like he was going to ask if he was sure, but then he didn’t say anything and continued. He had his hand on Tony’s hip to steady himself, and his breathing had turned ragged when he bottomed out.

Tony expected him to start pounding as soon as he caught his breath, but he rested there, stroking his thumb against Tony’s back. It wasn’t until he _actually_ relaxed that Bucky started moving. Tony bit down, not wanting to break the fragile air in the room, but unable to just lay there quietly because _fuck_ he was still as good at this today as he was when they got together.

Bucky was having a similar problem, wanting to shower Tony with endearments and praise, but he didn’t know how that would be taken.

They ended physically sated but emotionally unsatisfied.

Bucky was laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling as they both caught their breath. “I shouldn’t have done that, should I.”

Tony rolled on his side to look at him.

“You didn’t want to,” he said, utterly disgusted with himself.

“Yes I did.”

Bucky snorted. He rolled off the bed and wiggled his boxers on, then grabbed his jeans and pulled them on too. He did the zipper but didn’t bother with the button, throwing his shirt over his shoulder and holding his pants up as he left.

Tony watched him go, wondering if he’d make things better or worse if he told Bucky that he was still in love with him. Probably worse. He closed his eyes and tried to figure out if he’d be able to get to sleep.

He laid there for a minute with his mind whirring like a generator and sighed. Best to just take a shower and get back to the ‘shop. Doctor Cho was still working out how to connect the artificial limbs to the brain, but there was no reason Tony couldn’t look at her feedback and improve the prosthetics’ designs. The less issues there were for their initial tests, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be nice to Bucky. We figure out what's going on in his head next chapter.


	4. Talking, Talking, Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obadiah's an asshole, and Bucky and Tony are both trying their best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, I don't have a schedule for this, I just write and when the chapter's done I edit and post. I'm kinda impressed I've written this consistently tbh.

“It seems like there’s something on your mind,” Doctor Temple said once they’d both sat.

“I guess,” Bucky said quietly, not looking at her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Would you let me not?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

“Yes,” she said immediately, making him jolt in surprise even though it probably shouldn’t have. They’d met several times now, but he still expected something to change in how she interacted with him. “We meet so that you can talk about what’s bothering you without judgement. Forcing you to talk about something you’re not ready to, could hurt your progress.”

“It’s not that I’m… not ready. It’s not like that.” He didn’t want her to think this was something about his arm or anything he did in the military, because it wasn’t. This was something he could easily talk about, he just found himself reluctant to do so.

“What is it like?” Doctor Temple rolled her pen between her fingers, waiting for him to answer.

Somehow, it didn’t make him feel pressured. With Tony, it felt like there was always pressure to do _something_ , but he didn’t know what. “I slept with Tony.”

“Is this the same Tony you were seeing before your injury?” She was careful not to say boyfriend because Bucky insisted that they hadn’t been dating. From how he talked about it though, she was of the opinion that they had dated and he was in denial. He nodded. “I take it you mean sex, and not literal sleeping.” He nodded again. “Is it a problem that you slept with him?”

“Not- really. I guess.” She kept looking at him, and he sighed. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“And why do you think that?”

Bucky leaned back in the chair, getting comfortable. “Before I shipped out, Tony- he. He told me he loved me.”

“That doesn’t seem like a problem. You’re back, and he’s still here for you. You haven’t said anything bad about him in any of our sessions. You said he’s only been supportive.”

“He is.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He’s… too supportive. It’s always what I want. He wanted me to feel better, so he said we’d do whatever I wanted, and I said I wanted sex and he just- said yes.”

“Have you considered that maybe he wanted to have sex with you?”

Bucky shook his head. “He didn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He didn’t say anything. He just knew, and that was enough for him; he didn’t want to have to say it outloud. Saying it aloud would make it real, would mean he had to deal with it, and he didn’t want to do that. But Doctor Temple was still staring at him, waiting for a response. Bucky curled into himself before quietly saying, “He doesn’t love me anymore. He said it before I left and now he thinks he has to.”

“I think you might be underestimating him. He doesn’t sound like the kind of person to do something cruel, especially to you.”

“Tony’s a good person, but he can’t force himself to love someone. I just- I wish he’d stop pretending. He’s trying to help me, and I know that’s why he’s doing it, but it makes everything worse, knowing that he doesn’t mean it.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“Do you want to talk about something else?” she asked when he continued to sit there silently. He didn’t respond. “Your physical therapy maybe?” she prodded.

“No.” He sighed. “I don’t know how to talk to him. He’s doing everything he can to help me, and all I do is snap at him.”

“You’re adjusting to living with one arm,” she stated blandly. “If someone offers to do something for you, you’re going to question if they would normally offer that.”

“I don’t question it, it just makes me angry.”

“Anger has a root cause. In this case, it would be your insecurity about your life.”

Bucky grumbled and sunk lower into the chair. “Well what do you suggest I do about it?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I never do.”

“You need to talk to Tony.”

“...You’re right I don’t like it.”

Doctor Temple shrugged. “Relationships take work. If you want him to still be in your life, you’re going to have to talk to him, same as you’re going to have to talk to Steve the next time you see him.”

“I don’t want to,” he said petulantly.

“It’s like your physical therapy, Bucky. You might hate it, but you need to do it.”

“I don’t like… you.”

Doctor Temple laughed, but not unkindly. Strangely enough, it made him feel better. “Okay Bucky.”

When Bucky left her office that day, he had every intention of talking to Tony. It didn’t really work out that way.

* * *

Obadiah was back in town, and he wanted to talk to Tony about something. He didn’t say what, but Tony guessed it would be about what Tony and Pepper have been up to these past few weeks. And if that was the topic in question, Tony couldn’t, in good conscience, not deal with what Obadiah’s been doing.

“Tony my boy!”

Tony smiled tightly, swaying a little under the force of Obadiah’s hand on his shoulder. He used to think he just didn’t know his own strength, but he’d been eighteen at the time and somehow his opinion on this hadn’t evolved. A powerplay of the old variety, same as shaking someone’s hand and squeezing the life from it. Tony hated it. “Hey Obie. How was California?”

“Great as always. And how have things been up here at HQ?” He leveled Tony with a disappointed look. “I heard you’ve been doing some restaffing?”

“Yeah, but--”

“My boy,” Obadiah said, shaking his head, “you can’t fire people willy nilly and promote someone under qualified because you like the way she looks.”

“She’s not under qualified, and that’s not what this is.”

“You’re making the Board nervous, pulling a stunt like this.”

“It’s not a _stunt_ Obie.”

“Joseph Watkins has been with this company a long time, the Board knows him personally for his service. Firing him without any notice looks bad.”

Tony’s jaw twitched. “I don’t care if it looks bad, he was accepting bribes. Last time I checked, that was illegal.”

Obadiah was silent for a moment, and Tony could see him recalculating. “Alright, that’s fair. We could have done it better, but that makes sense. What about the others you’ve had fired? This is a bad habit to get into, Tony. It makes people nervous, and they stop wanting to work for us.”

“It’s called cleaning house,” Tony said, staring at Obadiah piercingly. “So is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

His easy going smile froze in place, leaving his eyes empty even though the rest of his face was projecting ‘friendly’. “It seems more like you have something you want to tell me.”

“Why have you been stealing? Is it money? You’re making plenty, but if you needed more, I would have _given_ it to you, all you had to do was ask!”

“Oh Tony.” He shook his head and reached into his pocket for a cigar. “Are you really letting me go, my boy?”

“I can’t just let you keep stealing! Our weapons are in the hands of America’s enemies and the only missing inventory we’ve found was stolen by _you_ . Have you been selling it to them? What am I supposed to do about that, Obie? What if the press finds out about that? What the _hell_ do you expect me to do?”

“Hm. Those are good questions, my boy.” He pulled out his lighter and puffed on the cigar, rotating it in his fingers until he was finished. He clicked the lighter closed and tucked it back in his jacket pocket. He ambled around the office, looking out the window and acting like he didn’t have a care in the world except for smoking and enjoying the view. He made something so casual look intimidating, and Tony had never realized how much Obadiah reminded him of Howard until this moment. “Do you know what the Board thinks of you? I have to admit, it’s not good. Given your history…” He glanced at Tony, then away, walking the length of the office. “The Board’s ready to shut you out. They think you’ve become unstable in the wake of what happened to your… partner,” he said, curling his lip distastefully. “Combined with how you’ve been in the past, especially what happened a couple years after you took over the company, they’re right to worry, don’t you think? You don’t have a lot of respect for them, and they know it. When it gets down to it, they might decide to pick the man that stands with them, keeps them in the loop, and respects their rights. Why don’t you think it over before you do anything drastic.” He pat Tony on the shoulder and left.

Tony clenched his hands so hard his knuckles turned white, and he started shaking. Obadiah was threatening to kick him out of his own _fucking_ company, and his voice hadn’t even changed tone. Tony had basically begged him to give him an out, and he had thrown it back in his face. He threw himself into his chair and tried to relax, but it wasn’t happening. He might as well have been burning a hole in the desk for the way he was glaring at it.

He shoved his sunglasses back on his face and stalked to the elevator, hurting his finger with how hard he pushed the button. He made disinterested noises when someone tried to engage him in conversation until they got off the elevator and he didn’t. Finally, the doors chimed open to the penthouse and he stomped out, tearing off his glasses and tossing them aside carelessly. Next to go was his jacket, then his tie, and finally his shoes-- which he threw at the wall. Now would be a good time to get completely wasted, but Obadiah didn’t earn Tony’s growing sobriety so like fuck was he going to give it to him. He ripped the refrigerator door open and grabbed juice, drinking straight from the bottle in an attempt to make himself feel better.

Bucky padded into the kitchen, waiting hesitantly in the doorway. “You okay?”

Tony grit his teeth, took another pull from the bottle and pretended there was the bite of liquor at the end. “Nope.” He swallowed audibly. “How was therapy? You didn’t say.”

“Um…” Bucky looked him over, saw the rage coursing through him and said, “We can talk about it later.”

“Fine.” He shoved the juice back in the fridge. He’d go down to the ‘shop and work himself to exhaustion so he could sleep, then he’d wake up and figure out what to do.

“You look tense,” Bucky said.

“Yeah no shit.”

Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to make his suggestion. Oh fuck it. Poorly thought out decisions were the foundation of his life. “We could always work that out.”

Tony glanced at him, lips already forming the words ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ when he saw the tilt of Bucky’s hips and the come hither expression he was trying to tone down. “Really?”

“Yeah, if- if you want.”

“Yeah that’d be- shit, yeah.” Tony stumbled towards him and threading his fingers through his hair when he kissed him. His hair was getting a little long, which just made it easier to get a grip on. Tony pressed his body against Bucky’s and made a noise of contentment when Bucky put his arm around his waist to hold him there. “Take me to your room?”

“I don’t have stuff there.”

“Mm- okay, mine then. Come on.” Tony broke away and started walking to his room, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He didn’t hear Bucky behind him, so he stopped and turned back around. “Something wrong?”

Bucky was standing there, anxiously tugging on the bottom of his shirt.

Tony sighed and rubbed at his face. “You don’t want to, do you.”

“I thought I did,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Tony shook his head and waved it off. “I’ll be in the workshop if you need me.” He tried not to storm away, but he wasn’t sure he was successful. He didn’t begrudge Bucky for changing his mind, but it would have been nice as fuck if he could have worked out some tension that way-- and gotten to spend some quality time with Bucky in the process.

This was the original plan though, and it would work just as well.

He hammered out his frustration on useless pieces of scrap metal for about an hour until Jarvis quieted the wailing guitars and asked for his attention. Tony put the hammer down and tossed the twisted metal into the pile, the loud clang grating on his ears. He took off the thick work gloves and wiped off his forehead on his arm. “What is it J?”

“I believe Sergeant Barnes would like to speak with you.”

Tony frowned. “He asked to talk to me?”

“Not officially,” Jarvis hedged, and Tony turned to a camera to give him a confused look. “He has not asked for assistance or company, but I believe it would do him well.”

“I don’t think he’d want you butting into his business.”

“Perhaps not, but Sergeant Barnes is under similar caretaker protocols as you are, sir. I think he would welcome your company.”

Tony sighed and pulled off the boots he’d shoved on for safety-- he’d had broken toes from dropping clumps of metal before, and they were not injuries he wanted to repeat (again). “Ask Bucky if he’d mind seeing me.”

There was a pause as Jarvis relayed the question. “He says he would like to talk to you, if you are available.”

Great. Just- great. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the negative thoughts. Bucky was finally wanting to talk to him, it was rude for him to assume it was about something bad. And even if it was something bad, so what? At least it would mean Bucky was getting better and asserting himself again. That he’d picked a horrible time to open up wasn’t his fault. “Yeah, tell him I’ll be right up.”

“Of course sir.”

He’d changed into his ‘shop clothes when he got down here, but unless Bucky said he wanted to go to a five star restaurant that instant, it wouldn’t be a problem. He was barefoot in the elevator, but there were perks to Jarvis running the Tower; aka no one else was going to be allowed into the elevator to see his bare feet or comment on it. He could feel his sweat chilling in the cool air of the elevator, and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself when he stepped out and towards the living room where Bucky was pacing. “What’s up?” Tony asked.

Bucky took in his clothes and sweaty skin and paused. “Were you busy?”

“No, I was just bashing up some scraps.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Doctor Temple said I should talk to you about… a few things.”

Tony nodded. “That’s what you wanted to talk about earlier, right?”

“Yeah you just- you didn’t seem like you were in a good mood. Are you feeling any better or…?”

“I’m as good as I’m going to get for the next week.” Probably longer than that, if he was being realistic. Problems like the one Obadiah had just presented didn’t evaporate, no matter how much Tony wanted it to.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“I’d rather not talk about it. What’s up?”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

“Yes.” Tony’s mind raced. What could Bucky possibly want to ask him that he’d want that guarantee first? It’s not even like Tony made a habit of lying to him-- although at second thought, he did tend to laugh off uncomfortable questions if he thought the answer wouldn’t be welcome.

“Do you want me here?”

Tony blinked, then frowned. “Of course I do. Was that all you wanted to know?”

“Not… all,” Bucky mumbled, hand rubbing at his opposite shoulder.

“Well,” Tony said, opening his arms wide, “consider this Honesty Hour. Anything you want to know, ask away.”

“Anything?”

“Yep.” It would do him good to worry about Bucky rather than Obadiah. The worst Bucky could do was rip his heart out, which he could pretend to get past. Obadiah? Not so much. He wished he had a glass in his hand to pretend this was a lighter situation than it was, but it was a lesser desire than usual, not near as bad as an hour ago.

“I thought as soon as I got back stateside you’d start throwing prosthetic designs at me. My gun jammed once and you didn’t leave it alone for two and a half weeks and five different designs.”

“That’s not a question,” Tony said automatically, then winced and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m working on it. Doctor Cho is working on her end, and I won’t be able to test anything on you until you’re done with your physical therapy so I figured there was no need to bother you about it,” he trailed off with a shrug. He didn’t talk to Bucky about it because he wasn’t sure he even wanted to hear about it. He sighed, then said that aloud and added, “It feels like you don’t like me these days. While you were in the hospital, I figured out you aren’t serious about me, and that’s fine, I get it, but it’s still- weird being around you sometimes.”

“You think I’m not serious about you?”

Tony looked around helplessly. “I mean… yeah. I told you that I loved you, and you ignored it. I wasn’t expecting you to say it back but you just- ignored it entirely like it never happened. And later, I called you my boyfriend, and you got all uncomfortable so I dropped it and didn’t say it again. Then when you got hurt, you didn’t want to talk to me at all, even though I was calling every day. At the airport, you- shit you only called me because you had no other option! Every time I tell you that I missed you, you roll your eyes like you think I’m lying, or you believe me and just don’t care. I’m not sure if we were _ever_ a couple, and now I really don’t fucking know because you don’t talk to me, and you don’t touch me. I mean yeah, we had sex the other day but I don’t think you cared that it was me and not anybody else.” Tony covered his face with his hands. “And I know you have a lot of shit going on and the last thing you need is me dumping all this on you but look-- I fucking did it anyways.” He rubbed his palms harshly against his cheeks before he dropped them down to his sides. “Sorry. Did you want me to go?”

Bucky was staring at him, wide-eyed. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it. All my emotional bullshit pales in comparison to losing an arm. Even I know that.”

Bucky’s arm unconsciously went across his stomach like he wanted to cross his arms. “Steve told me that they had Stark weapons. He got so mad, but I knew it wasn’t your fault. I-” Bucky shivered and tried to hold himself tighter. His throat worked and he said, “I know you’d never double deal.”

“Something tells me that’s not what you were going to say,” Tony said lowly.

Bucky swallowed and didn’t respond to that. “Did you really think I didn’t want to be with you? The other night?”

“I think you wanted sex, and you wanted it to be with someone you knew.”

“But?”

“But I also think that if Steve was available, you would have gone to him. He’s always been your guy. I’m the clingy one that doesn’t know how to let go.”

“What if I don’t want you to let go?”

Tony stared at him in shock. This would be the point where Rhodey told him that he should caution Bucky that he wouldn’t be jerked around, and that if Bucky wanted to be with him, he needed to communicate more efficiently. But then, Rhodey wasn’t here, and Tony would never be able to turn Bucky down, especially when he looked this vulnerable. “Then I won’t. But if that ever changes, you need to promise me that you’ll tell me. I don’t want to make a complete ass of myself trying to make you happy when it’s not possible.”

“I promise,” Bucky said softly.


	5. Taking Care Of Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky makes some progress, and Tony works.

Tony felt better after talking to Bucky, but not enough that he could go about his day like normal and straight to bed that night. He worked on the prosthetics and refined the design before realizing that he should use Fullmetal Alchemist as inspiration and have a separate port from the actual design of the limb. It would make maintenance considerably easier, but he didn’t know how that would affect the nerve connections. If it was something they could turn on and off, then a detachable limb would be great, but if the only way was full integration, this would never work.

He sent the designs to Doctor Cho and asked if that would work, as well as her opinion on the differences if it was possible. She would reply with a very irritated email, he was sure, but then she’d look it over and tell him if the idea was gold or garbage. His money was on garbage.

He flicked the designs away and brought up the arc reactor powering one of their buildings-- built back in the seventies to-- as Obadiah said-- keep the hippies off their back. He hadn’t visited the project, but if he could miniaturize it, it would be the perfect power source.

Sixteen hours and four pots of coffee later, he had a design for one about the size of his fist. Good enough for legs, but maybe not for arms if the person was small. Also he didn’t know how cramped the inside of the prosthetic would be, or if there was even room for _anything_ in there. He sighed and shot Helen another email with the estimated size of the new reactor and a question mark. The power output would be less than the full-sized one, but this was a person’s limb, not a building; there’d still be plenty of power to keep their arm or leg running for the rest of their life.

He went to the coffee machine in the corner only to find it missing. “Uh, Jarvis? Explain?”

“DUM-E has it, sir. He saw you yawn fifteen minutes ago and took matters into his own hands-- or claw as it were.”

“With a little nudge from his brother?”

“Nothing you can prove, sir. Should you not be able to get any rest, we will return it safe and sound.”

“This sounds like a hostage negotiation.” He wasn’t used to being on this side of things; it was interesting.

“Isn’t it? Our official line can be ‘Go to bed or else’, if you like. Or perhaps, ‘Go to bed or your coffee machine will be returned to you in pieces’. Smashed pieces, otherwise you would simply put it back together,” Jarvis clarified.

“Sounds a little wordy.”

“You’ve heard our demands.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he grumbled, stumbling towards the elevator and opening his mouth in a jaw cracking yawn. Betrayed by his own body. What was the world coming to? “Wake me up if Bucky needs me, yeah? But no one else unless it’s an emergency.”

“Of course sir.” They were both silent for the majority of the ride, with Jarvis saying, “Sweet dreams sir,” as he opened the doors for Tony.

* * *

“Tony,” Helen sighed over the video chat, “I’m not sure you understand how complicated this is. I need something simpler for the initial tests. Trying to go all in with sensation and temperature recognition is bogging the project down. I’m not even sure I can give them more than one level of pressure, and I _know_ I can’t right here at the start.”

“Oh. Right, okay I guess that makes sense, you’re the expert here.” He chugged some lukewarm coffee and turned back to her. “How simple are we talking?”

“Shoulder, elbow, and finger movements. Don’t even add a wrist, it’s too much for the preliminary system.”

“Yeah.” Tony pulled up another screen alongside her call and went to his first prototype. “No plates?”

“No. Think more like DUM-E’s arm. When we launch this, we want the plates, but right now…”

“Too much, right.” He trashed the casing and all the connections meant for pressure manipulation and to feel sensation. He slapped a tube on the outside for the upper and forearm, but each knuckle in a finger had to be separate. “All three knuckles for fingers?” he double checked.

“Yes. Because they’re only really linked to the one behind it and have limited motion, it’s not going to complicate matters.”

“The human body’s weird.”

“I’ve been telling you that for years,” she said drily.

“Hm. How’s that regeneration bed thing going?” He smoothed out the tubes near the joints so they wouldn’t catch and put in a rudimentary link for the elbow. He wrinkled his nose at all the long term issues it would have, but didn’t fix it. This particular design wasn’t going to last very long, he needed to remember that.

“Better than this.”

“I would have planned accordingly if I’d known this would be so complicated on your end.” He gave the blueprint a once over, and Jarvis gave it a stamp of approval. He sent it through and turned back to the screen with Helen on it. “Did you get it?”

She was looking away now, tapping at her computer. “Yes, I did.” Her eyes roved over it, and she nodded slowly. “I think this will work.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Anything else?”

“We need to start getting test subjects together, run them through the paperwork and tell them the risks.”

“Isn’t that usually your job?”

“Usually,” she agreed, “but I’m in South Korea for the next two weeks.”

He rolled his eyes as if this was an offense to his person and not a matter of her being busy. “Fine I’ll take care of it. Are you sure you’ll have this ready when you get back in the States?”

“Definitely.”

“Thanks Helen, I owe you one.”

She smiled. “No you don’t. See you soon, Tony. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” They both hung up, and Tony rubbed at his temples to stave off the headache he could feel coming. He reminded himself that they were revolutionizing the prosthetics industry and doing that included starting from the very beginning. Even if he couldn’t fix the mess with Obadiah-- he should probably start referring to him as Stane since it was obvious they weren’t actually friends, but that felt strangely impersonal for someone who’d taught him all about his own company-- Helen had a contract with Stark Industries for funding, and they wouldn’t be able to shut down the budding prosthetics division for at least a year. Worst case scenario was that Helen had to find a different company to back her, but the designs belonged to Tony not Stark Industries, so they’d still be out in the world, even if they were more expensive than he wanted. An annual gala would probably take care of that, and they would just appeal to everyone’s patriotism and bam: paid for prosthetics.

Finding people to do the initial tests would be easy. They lived in New York for fuck’s sake, there were plenty of vets that could use both the prosthetic and the monetary compensation that came with volunteering. “Hey J? Tell legal to write up the contracts, and tell PR to get ready. Where’s Bucky?”

“In the kitchen making cookies.”

Tony pictured Bucky in a pink frilly apron and chuckled as he walked to the elevator. Jarvis automatically brought him up to the penthouse, and Tony pat the wall as if it were a part of his casing like he did for DUM-E. Tony didn’t own any aprons as far as he knew, let alone a pink one with frills, and even if he did, Bucky (now) certainly wouldn’t wear it. It was still fun to imagine for the elevator ride. Maybe he should work on making these elevators faster because the trip from the workshop (in the basement) to the penthouse (at the top) took too long in his opinion. “Hey Bucky.”

Bucky looked over at him. “Hey.” He struggled with keeping the mixing bowl in place as he stirred.

“Do you want help or is this practice?” Tony asked.

The bowl wobbled and his hand slipped, slapping his forearm against the counter. “Practice,” he said with a grimace, setting the bowl upright and shaking out his arm.

“If it doesn’t take you three hours and end with something inedible, you’ll have done better than me if that helps at all. Can I talk to you about something while you do this?”

“Sure.”

“So- uh, Doctor Cho is coming back to the states in a couple weeks, and we’re starting human trials for the prosthetics program. It’s not at the level I was hoping, but we’re about to start accepting applicants and…”

“You want me to enter.”

“Only if you want.”

Bucky stared at the cookie dough for a moment and added more chips in, folding them into the dough with his wooden spoon carefully. “I’ll think about it.”

Tony’s mood perked up, and he tried not to be too obvious about it. “Okay. I’ll show you the paperwork once it’s drafted so you’d know what you’re getting into.”

Bucky nodded and went back to struggling with the cookie dough and Tony couldn’t help but chime in.

“Have you tried sitting down?”

Bucky paused and looked at him in confusion.

“For the bowl. I broke my wrist once, and if I needed to open a jar or something, I’d sit down and hold it between my legs so I could get a grip.”

Haltingly, Bucky grabbed the bowl and sat in one of the kitchen chairs, holding the dish between his thighs and started stirring, much easier this time. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Do you want some company?”

“Sure.”

They didn’t talk much, but it was nice to share the same space without feeling like he was making Bucky uncomfortable.

* * *

Tony was jerked out of sleep by someone knocking on his door. He stumbled out of bed, feeling like his spirit had left his body in the night and was having trouble re-connecting. He somehow got the door open and blinked dumbly at Bucky standing there in loose sweatpants and a too large shirt, waiting for his brain to boot up. “Mm?” He tried to say Bucky’s name, but that was all that came out. He yawned so wide it made his jaw ache, and he rubbed at his eyes. “Wh’t’re y’ doin’?”

“I- um.” Bucky shifted uncertainly. “I didn’t want to sleep alone, and I was- uh, wonderin’ if I could, um, y’know.”

“Mm. Yeah.” Tony turned around with another yawn, crawling into bed and scooting towards the wall to make space for Bucky. Unfortunately, that meant he was giving up his sleep-warmed spot, but he was gaining a human heater, so it was a fair trade all around.

Bucky stepped in and closed the door behind him, but hesitated before joining Tony in the bed, laying on his back. He was a little cold from standing in the hall, but Tony snuggled up to him with only the slightest of flinches at the temperature. He was on Bucky’s left, which meant there was no arm arranging for both of them to get comfortable, which was an unforeseen perk. He hummed, tucking a leg between Bucky’s. “M’kay?”

“Yeah.” Bucky turned his head towards Tony, giving his head a kiss just because it was right there.

The next time Tony woke up, it was comfortably slow. He was warm, he felt safe, and his mind was still delightfully hazy, so he didn’t have any of his daytime worries weighing him down yet.

“Mornin’ doll.”

“Mm. Morning.”

“How’d ya sleep?”

Tony hummed again, wiggling closer.

Bucky chuckled, and Tony could feel the vibration throughout his body. “Thanks for lettin’ me in las’ night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“You still asleep there?”

“Mm.”

“Well in that case maybe I should go,” Bucky said teasingly, ever so slightly drawing his body away.

Tony eyes shot open and he clung to Bucky trying to drag him back into position. “No no no, stay here.”

“You look awake now.”

Tony scowled at him. “There are two reasons for waking me up when the sun is also up. One, there is good coffee and good food. Two, sex. Right now, you are offering me neither, which makes you mean.”

“Well jerkin’ you off while you were asleep didn’t seem right.” That was all the warning Bucky gave before kissing Tony and pushing him back into the sheets.

“Oh- this is- mm. Good surprise.”

Bucky laughed against his mouth, breaking away for a minute to straddle him, then he leaned back down, rolling his hips down. Tony was still mostly soft, but Bucky’s dick was with the program, laying heavy and thick on Tony’s abdomen. He kicked the blankets away and off the bed, then moved so his head was level with Tony’s cock. “Toss me a rubber wouldja?” he asked, stroking Tony firmly and feeling him get thicker in his hand. He was vaguely aware of Tony’s torso twisting, and could see out of the corner of his eye that Tony’s arm was straining, but he was too focused on Tony’s cock, the curve and weight of it that he’d missed and ignored the last time they were together.

“I can’t reach,” Tony said, voice strained.

Bucky let go of him and leaned back, and Tony dove across the bed. As he was rifling through the drawer cursing the powers that be for letting the condoms fall to the bottom, Bucky put his hand on Tony’s calf, rubbing idly while he waited. He’d missed this, more than he had let himself admit.

“That’s not helping.”

“Oh?” Bucky asked, affecting innocence. “I had no idea.” He leaned down and kissed Tony’s lower back, peppering the area with kisses.

“You’re such an asshole,” Tony growled, throwing the condom back at him and rolling onto his back.

Bucky snorted at Tony’s eager look. “Get yourself a pillow before you regret it.”

He huffed but moved to something more like his original position, aka comfortable and reasonable. Bucky grabbed the condom, and, after a moment, realized he’d have to rip it open using his teeth. He started laughing, making Tony ask, “What?”

Bucky opened the packet and spit the wrapper aside. “I haven’t opened condoms like that since I was twenty.” Chuckling, he rolled it on Tony, fondling his balls for a second before pulling away to lay down in between his legs.

“You opened it like that the other day,” Tony pointed out, petting his hand through Bucky’s hair.

He grimaced. “Any chance I can convince you t’ forget all about that night?”

Tony hummed as if in consideration, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes that meant he was joking. “Guess that depends on how well you do right now.” Bucky smiled, but there was still a hint of sadness clinging to him. “Hey,” Tony said softly, giving his head a little shove. “This is supposed to be fun; we can’t have fun if you’re sad.”

“I just… I hate that I treated you like that. And I hate that I might try an’ do it again nex’ time I have a bad day. Will you--” he stopped, looked away and swallowed thickly before looking at him again. “If I act like that again, will you tell me to stop?”

“Yeah,” Tony lied, “of course.” It didn’t matter that Tony had felt like dirt afterward and would the next time, as long as he kept Bucky from finding out. All he had to do was convince Bucky he was having a good time, and it would help him feel better-- because that was the reason he’d asked the first time, and Tony knew it would be the reason the next time too.

Bucky believed him though, and he grinned at him, licking a stripe up his cock as if the little talking interlude never happened. Condoms weren’t exactly his favorite taste-- and he couldn’t stand the so-called ‘flavored’ ones-- but it got all the reactions that he wanted out of Tony, so he ignored the taste. He wasted no time in sucking him down and tonguing at the underside as he bobbed his head, not slowing down until he heard Tony moan.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Tony breathed, his hand tightening in Bucky’s hair.

Bucky pulled up to play with the head, stroking the rest of Tony’s cock as he licked at the head and traced the slit with his tongue. Even through the film it made Tony shudder, and Bucky smiled wickedly.

“Bucky,” he whined, “c’mon don’t tease.” Bucky ignored him, moving his hand down to cup his balls, rolling them in his hand. “Bucky for fuck’s sake.”

He pulled off chuckling, resituating himself. “Yeah, yeah. Be easy on my throat hon, it’s been a while.” He swallowed Tony down, and for someone who claimed they wanted their throat to be in good condition afterwards, he was taking Tony’s cock deep and using his hand to encourage him to fuck his mouth.

“You- ah- are sending mixed- fuck- signals sweetheart,” Tony gasped out. When Bucky just hummed, Tony started thrusting into his mouth. Bucky moaned and his eyelids fluttered shut, and Tony lost himself in that wet heat. He didn’t last long before he felt heat pooling low in his abdomen and spilled into the condom with a gasp.

Bucky pulled off and rested his head on Tony’s thigh. He took the condom off Tony and tied it, tossing it over the side of the bed carelessly. He leaned on his side so he could reach a hand down to touch himself, stroking hard and fast while he panted against Tony’s leg. Tony scratched at his scalp slowly, tugging at his hair and making Bucky whine as he made a mess on the sheets.

“You’re amazing,” Tony said reverently, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Don’t know about that,” Bucky replied, head still up in the clouds.

“My bed, my rules. While you are in this bed, you’re amazing, no arguments.”

Bucky laughed, moving out of the wet spot and back up to Tony. “Sure doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Rhodey!


	6. Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is working too hard. To him, what else is new? But Rhodey and Bucky think it's too much, and they're worried.

Tony knew he worked himself too hard. ‘Knew’ in this case meaning that other people told him that all the time, with such frequency and variety that it felt true. ‘Knew’ did _not_ mean that he thought this about himself, much less changed his behavior to be adapt a more healthy lifestyle.

He was working with Doctor Cho on the prosthetics, talking to the Board to figure out what Stane had been whispering in their ears, working with Pepper to clean out Stark Industries, trying to keep up with his designs, and making sure he had time to spend with Bucky. And then Rhodey showed up. Tony now had to find even _more_ time in his schedule, and it was starting to grate on him. He hadn’t believed Rhodey in the past about not being able to live on coffee and smoothies, but he was almost ready to admit that he’d been wrong. Almost, and only to himself.

There was a bright side to everything, of course. He managed to keep his temper in check while talking to the Board, and he was _pretty_ sure they were coming around. Were enough on his side at least, that they wouldn’t be in a hurry to get rid of him. He did have to explain the reason for all the layoffs, and Stark Industries released an official statement about it-- in a nice way that made it sound less serious than it was so the stock wouldn’t tank. Pepper was certain they were close to being done with that aspect, which was nice to hear, but they were about to go through what Pepper called the ‘fine tooth comb phase’ where she went through every piece of the company to make sure it was the way it was supposed to be. To try and cover their ass after that bit of bad press, they also did publicity about the prosthetics division and the work they were doing there. It did its job, and the stock only dipped a little. Bucky even had one of the prototypes on his shoulder, and most days he wasn’t scared to tell Tony about any problems he had with it.

Rhodey was being his usual self, which wasn’t normally a problem Tony ran into-- he loved Rhodey after all, he was his best friend-- but he seemed surprised when Tony didn’t cancel all his meetings and blow the day off to watch romantic comedies on the couch with him. “Not that I’m complaining, Tones, it’s good that you’re going to your meetings, I’m just… surprised.” Rhodey’s mouth said ‘surprised’ but his face said ‘worried’.

“He’s been doing that a lot recently,” Bucky chimed in, the helpful bastard. Tony glared at him, and Bucky just smiled back cheerfully.

That made Rhodey look even more distressed. “Tony… are you dying?” he asked, and the worst part was that he was actually serious. Bucky did his best to look neutral, but it was obvious that he was thinking/worrying about the same thing.

“No, good christ! I’m not dying, will you both calm down?”

“I think we’re pretty calm,” Bucky said, being, yes unfortunately, very calm.

“You’re just… not acting like yourself. You’re still working hard and not sleeping, that’s nothing new, but you aren’t relaxing at all.”

“You barely sleep. I’m convinced you pass out more days than you fall asleep.”

Tony looked at both of them incredulously. “Is this an intervention for me working too much?” Where were they back when he was drinking? He could’ve actually used it then-- assuming he would have listened, which wasn’t likely, but at least that would have been warranted.

“It’s not that you’re working,” Rhodey said, “it’s that you’re acting like you’re running out of time.”

“Sometimes,” Tony said, speaking slowly and condescendingly, “things have deadlines and I have to meet those deadlines or risk the entire project being pushed back.”

Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Damn. Apparently today wasn’t one of his more emotional days, otherwise that would have gotten Tony kicked out of the room.

“Tony, we’re worried about you.”

“Well don’t be, I’m fine,” he snarled and left. Leaving them all alone after an unprompted outburst to scheme some more was not one of his best ideas, but as previously mentioned, he was overworked and not thinking clearly. All his brain power was going towards his work and not getting kicked out of his own fucking company. He loved both of them, but he just couldn’t deal with that mess right now.

“Well that went well,” Rhodey said after Tony stormed out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It could have gone worse,” Bucky offered.

“It also could have gone better.”

“There’s the optimism we all know and love.”

Rhodey sighed heavily. “Bucky… now’s not the time.”

“Sorry. Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“I have no idea. I’d _like_ to think he’d tell me if he was dying, but it wouldn’t really surprise me if he dropped dead from cancer or something and I learned about it on the news. That’s how I learned about his parents.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Oh yeah.” Rhodey sighed again and sat on the couch. “Well if he’s not dying, then what could it be?”

“Did we rule out dying?”

“We’re hoping for the best there since there’s nothing we can do about it if he is. Unless you’ve got an MD hidden behind your bangs, we’re out of luck”

Bucky made a face and pushed said bangs out of the way. “Well he’s acting like he’s runnin’ outta time. What would make him feel like he’s outta time other than death?”

“I asked you first,” Rhodey grumbled, but he flashed Bucky a quick smile afterwards so he knew he was joking. “Well Jarvis won’t talk, and Tony won’t talk, and we’re the next people who would know anything, but we don’t.” He clapped his hands together. “You heard it here first boys: we’re screwed.”

“You’re a regular ray of sunshine.”

Rhodey flipped him off but didn’t say anything else. Maybe going for the team approach was too much. Going by Tony’s emails, Bucky was doing better lately, but that didn’t mean much in Tony’s world. Even if he was dying, he’d think that he didn’t need to bother Bucky with it. Rhodey all by himself on the other hand… “I’ll talk to him again later.”

Bucky seemed skeptical, but he wished him luck.

* * *

Rhodey went into the ‘shop a few hours later without any fanfare. He sat on the couch that Tony had saved from MIT for whatever reason and waited. DUM-E came up to him with a pad and a clawful of pens and pencils. “You wanna play tic tac toe bud?”

DUM-E chirped happily, clicking his claw before picking up an open marker on the table beside him. They played six rounds before Tony noticed him, jolting in his seat before slumping over in preemptive defeat.

“What do you want?” Tony asked, voice matching his posture.

“To talk.”

“We talked earlier, and I don’t have time to do this again.”

“That’s what worries me Tony. Why don’t you have time?” DUM-E poked him with the marker, leaving a streak of black on his already dark skin. Absently, Rhodey took the marker from him and handed him a tennis ball that was stuck in the couch cushions, replacing it with the now capped marker. DUM-E bounced it once and it rolled away, and he spent the rest of the time Rhodey was down there picking it up and trying to throw it.

“I’m just busy, James, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey said slowly. “You just called me ‘James’. The last time you did that I’d just made out with someone you were secretly dating and you forgot I didn’t know so you thought I did that to you on purpose. So something’s definitely wrong. Maybe you are busy, but that’s not all this is. Come on Tony. Whatever it is, you know I won’t judge.”

“You’ll tell Bucky.”

“Not if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“You can’t tell him.”

“Promise,” Rhodey said, doing a little cross his heart motion.

Tony sighed, running a dirty hand through his equally dirty hair. “Stane’s double dealing, selling to the fucking people we’re at war with. When I talked to him about it, he threatened to shut me out of the company.”

“Obadiah?”

“Yeah.”

“This is going to sound stupid, but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He laughed harshly, throwing the wrench he’d been holding on the table with a jarring clang. “Do you know that I tried to offer him a way out? I didn’t want to think that he’d been selling to terrorists, so I told him that if he stopped I wouldn’t turn him in. He just- he- he _fucking_ \--”

“Woah, hey hey hey,” Rhodey said, tone low and soothing. He grabbed Tony’s hands before he could hurt himself and pulled him into a hug, Tony’s head buried in his stomach. “None of that’s your fault Tones.”

“Yes it is,” he shot back, not even hesitating. His voice was rough in a way it only got when he was crying or trying not to cry. “It’s _my company_ Rhodey, and I didn’t even notice. We had missing inventory, all sorts of people dealing under the table, accepting bribes, my right fucking hand who _built_ this company, has committed treason. I can’t… what am I supposed to do about that?”

“You’re already taking care of it, Tony, you don’t need my advice.”

“Why do you think I’m taking care of it? What about me makes you think I could ever manage to take care of this?”

“You’re Tony fucking Stark. That means that even when you’re having a breakdown, you’ve taken care of everything. You’ve been working non-stop since I got here, and Bucky said this has been going on since _before_ I showed up. You avoid personal issues like you’ve got all the time in the world, but as soon as someone else is brought into it you take care of it. That’s who you are, Tony, not whatever bullshit Stane spewed to make you feel like this, or whatever you’ve been telling yourself hoping to make emotional amends or something.”

Tony shook his head but pressed his face further into Rhodey’s stomach, wishing there was more give to it instead of hard muscle. “You can’t tell Bucky,” he sniffled. “He doesn’t need to worry about this.”

“He would worry because he cares about you, Tony. What do you think earlier was about?"   
  
"Don't do this, Rhodey," he said, sounding world weary.   
  
"Don't do what? Tell you that the people who love you do in fact love you? I can't promise not to do that."   
  
"Bucky's..." Tony sighed and leaned back just enough to wipe at his eyes. "Emotional right now. And confused."   
  
"He doesn't seem the least bit confused to me."   
  
"Oh come on Rhodey. He barely liked me before, and now that he lost an arm because of my stupidity, you expect me to believe that he's in love with me all of a sudden?"   
  
Rhodey blinked down at him-- or the back of his head since Tony was still hiding his face. "I don't think I'm the person you should be talking to right now. About this at least."   
  
Tony snorted. "Yeah that'll go just great. It's not like he's living with me and taking part of a project that I'm personally involved in. He has absolutely no reason to convince himself that's he's interested in me."   
  
"I don't think you're giving him enough credit."   
  
"I think he's a good person who knows how I feel about him, and he wants a little bit of comfort in his life."   
  
"Again, I don't think I'm the person you should be talking to about this. It sounds like you and Bucky need to sit down and talk this out."   
  
"We've already sat down and talked things out, that's why things are the way they are."   
  
"It didn't resolve anything if you're having these issues now."   
  
Tony shook his head again and backed up. "Forget it, it's nothing. I'm just being over dramatic with everything else that's going on. Trying to find issues with every section of my life, you know? Really," he added when Rhodey continued to stare at him doubtfully, "it's nothing. This business with Stane is just making me paranoid."   
  
"If you say so, bud. Anything else you'd like to get off your chest while I'm here?"   
  
"I promoted someone to head accountant and she's scarily good. I didn't realize how ineffective Watkins was until she took over. It's almost like she's actually good at her job and he sucked hairy balls."   
  
"Thank you for that imagery."   
  
"You've done worse to me." That was true, and also not something he wanted to get into right now.   
  
"So she's good."   
  
"Yeah. It's nice. I don't think she likes me much, but she does her job perfectly, so I don't care."   
  
"That's good. I'm glad we know something's going well in this mess."   
  
"Yeah." Tony fiddled with his fingers for a second. "You won't tell Bucky right?"   
  
Rhodey sighed. "No, I won't tell him, but you really should. Promise me you'll at least think about it?"   
  
"Fine. I'll think about it."   
  
"And I mean seriously think about it. Not run over the thoughts you've had a million times and write it off. I want you to actually think about it."   
  
"I will! Jesus Rhodey, have a little faith."   
  
He pinned Tony with a flat look.   
  
"Yeah yeah, I get your point, now go away." 

* * *

"How'd it go?" Bucky asked as soon as he saw Rhodey again.   
  
"He's not dying."   
  
"Thank god," he muttered, probably not meaning for Rhodey to hear him. Bucky's shoulders relaxed, and Rhodey hadn't noticed how worried Bucky had been about that possibility until that moment. "So what's going on?"   
  
"He asked me not to tell you."   
  
Bucky reared back. "What? Why?"   
  
"He has his reasons, misguided as they might be."   
  
"If something's going on with Tony, I should know about it."   
  
"I agree, but I promised him I wouldn't say anything. Look, I leave tomorrow, you should talk to him then."   
  
"Can't I ask him about it right now?"   
  
"You could," Rhodey said, but his tone made it clear he thought that was a bad idea, "but I think you should give him some time. Not too much time," he added hurriedly. "Just not right now. The only reason I'm up here is because he clammed up; that's not going to get better in an hour."   
  
His shoulders slumped. The prototype prosthetic sat on his shoulder, so Rhodey motioned to it and asked him how that was going. Bucky saw through the obvious subject change, but he told Rhodey about it anyways. 

* * *

Tony talked to Bucky, obviously. Just not about what Rhodey told him to.   
  
Bucky was getting better, and somehow that translated to him cozying up to Tony. Tony was one hundred percent not going to argue with that development, he just took it and offered more.   
  
Their relationship wasn't really back to 'relationship' level, but Bucky did give him the occasional kiss. Mostly on the cheek to be honest, and when it was on the mouth, it was as short as though it had been on the cheek. Tony loved those little kisses, but he didn't see how it made Bucky feel better.   
  
Bucky crawling into his bed made sense to him. Falling asleep and waking up in someone else's warmth was a primal sort of comfort, one that Tony was increasingly fond of. After a couple weeks of Bucky coming in half-way through the night when he woke up from a nightmare or just being unsettled, Tony invited him to fall asleep there-- no strings, of course, just the way they'd been doing it, only starting earlier in the night. It worked pretty well if he did say so himself. Bucky slept a little better after that, and Tony slept considerably better, not that he said that to Bucky's face (or any other part of him).   
  
They were laying down one night, and Bucky was holding his hand and stroking the skin of his wrist lightly. "Tony?"   
  
"Hm?"   
  
"D'you think we could go on a date? This week sometime, if you're not busy. I mean," he corrected with a little laugh, "I know you've been really busy recently. Just. If you have the time."   
  
"Yeah," Tony said as soon as he was done talking. "Yeah that sounds great. Are you sure? I don't mind if we keep going on like this, you know."   
  
"Yes, Tony, I'm sure. I've thought about it a lot. We're close and you're doing so much for me, I didn't want it to be me thanking you and then changing my mind a week later, you know? I didn't want to do that to you."   
  
"Oh," Tony said, slightly surprised but trying to keep it out of his voice. "Well thank you."   
  
Bucky laughed again, a touch self-deprecatingly. Evidently, Tony hadn’t been successful in keeping his surprise hidden. "Sorry. I'm trying."   
  
"You're doing great, Bucky, I'm not judging you." He would never do that, god he never wanted Bucky to think even for a moment that he was judging the rate of his progress. "You're doing amazing, and I'm so proud of you. I was-." Tony stopped and cleared his throat. "Nevermind, it's nothing."   
  
"No honey, c'mon. You were what?"   
  
He took a deep breath. He never would have admitted this in the light of day, but, "I was worried that I was slowing you down. When you first got here, you couldn't stand me, and I know part of that was you getting used to being stateside, and losing your arm, but... I don't think I was helping. Me being around you was hurting your progress."   
  
"You weren't hurting anythin' doll."   
  
Tony gave him a little half smile that he didn't fully feel. "Good to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entirety of the next chapter has graphic violence, so there will be a summary at the end if you want to skip over that.


	7. The Final Blow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence, and some near death experiences-- aka where the Graphic Depictions of Violence archive warning comes in. That’s all this chapter is. See endnotes for a summary of the chapter.
> 
> Also I don't know how emergency calls work, I just gave it my best guess.

Tony had been in bed but sleep was nowhere to be found. He slipped off the mattress, careful not to wake up Bucky, and went to the couch with a tablet. A little bit of tweaking on the next generation of prosthetics would be enough to keep his mind occupied, and he didn’t need to be down in the workshop to get it done.   
  
He wasn’t even doing much in the way of tweaking; he was just rotating it and admiring that the project had made it this far in such a short time. All of a sudden he froze, everything in him juddering to a stop. It was unnatural-- how he imagined telepathic powers would feel if someone used them to stop a person in place. In a word: disturbing. Immensely so. A hand came from behind him, showing an old paralytic prototype from SI. Tony hadn't been involved in it until the end, when he trashed the project. It had been an almost collective decision, the only one who had really been upset about its termination was the man who had invented them in the first place, and he'd wound up in prison for domestic abuse so no one really cared. The prototypes had been gathered up and destroyed, though the information was kept on file-- under restriction-- for a 'just in case' scenario.   
  
An old but strong hand was holding the little device, and the man holding it clicked it close, the red glow vanishing in time with the high pitched whine Tony hadn't noticed was there until it was gone.   
  
"There you go," Stane said, guiding Tony's head to rest on the back of the couch. He walked around and sat on the edge of the table and took out his specially made ear plugs, making eye contact with Tony the whole time. "You know Tony, you've always been able to throw a wrench in plans, no matter whose they are." He took the tablet out of Tony's hands and set it to the side. "Howard wanted you to follow a certain path, and you said no just to spite him. When I had him killed though... you stepped up. I thought I wouldn't have anything to worry about with you. When it came down to it, you fell in line." He shook his head, looking like he was talking about an ill-timed rain storm rather than the murder of his business partner and Tony's father. "And then you met that boy of your's and started getting ideas again, just like when you were a child. I do hate to do this to you, my boy, but I tried to take care of it. And to think, all he lost was an arm. It's so hard to find good help these days, especially overseas. Ah well." He pat Tony's face patronizingly and took a needle and small bottle out of his pocket. He uncapped the needle and stuck it through the top of the glass bottle, filling the syringe slowly. He found a vein in Tony's arm and depressed the plunger, not bothering to wipe up the bead of blood that followed when he took the needle out. "Not to worry my boy, this is just to make your bloodstream look better for the coroner. All good things come to an end, I suppose." With that, he hoisted Tony's lax body up, his arms under Tony's arms, and started dragging him somewhere.   
  
Tony tried to think of some way out of this, but he couldn't move and all he could feel was the stinging pain of betrayal in his chest. Stane was going to kill him. Maybe throw him off the roof. Nobody would question a jumper. Hell, with the way things had been lately, Bucky and Rhodey probably wouldn't even think it was strange. He was overworked and having emotional issues, remember?

He would never make it to that date with Bucky. Stane would be in charge of the company, Pepper would get fired, and SI would go back to double dealing. He hadn't understood Howard's obsession with legacy before. But now, in the face of everything he worked to accomplish crumbling around him, he sort of got it.   
  
When Stane didn't drag him to the elevator or stairwell, Tony started to get confused. If they weren't going to the roof, where were they going? The only rooms down this hallway were a bathroom, a bedroom, a storage area, and an office, all four of which Tony never used-- the bathroom and bedroom had seen brief use by Bucky when he moved in. Leaving Tony back here wouldn't work because the paralytic effects started to wear off after fifteen minutes, and whatever Stane had used to disable Jarvis couldn't be permanent-- Tony had built in multiple fail-safes for if Jarvis was compromised and whatever this was wouldn't last more than an hour, max.   
  
He pulled Tony into the bathroom, and his confusion grew. Stane dropped Tony on the tile floor, then reached in and plugged the drain of the tub. Horror growing, Tony redoubled his efforts to move his body, even a finger would be enough at this stage. But as Stane picked him up and tumbled him face down into the tub, all he managed was wide eyes and a racing heart. He couldn't twitch, couldn't possibly hope to gain back control in time, and his face was underneath the spout.   
  
With one last pat to the shoulder, Stane reached for the knob. "I'll give you a nice funeral, Tony." He turned the knob on full blast, pelting Tony's face with icy water. Whatever Stane had stuck in him was starting to take effect, leaving him with sheer terror behind a wall of floating haziness.

He left the room, closing the door behind him, not that Tony could see or hear it. His limbs were stuck, and the edges of full blown panic crept in. They tested the water, found that it was making it hard for him to breathe, and then it slammed forward, the water making it as difficult to breathe as the panic was. But still, somehow, the high was still in his mind, muddling his thoughts. If he could move, he thought the drugs would make him lack the motivation to move even as his brain screamed at him to escape.

He hated that this was how it was going to all end. 

* * *

Bucky stirred awake. At first he didn't know why he did it, but then he realized that the blanket had fallen off. He reached blindly for it, and it was only once it was pulled on that he noticed Tony was missing. Something about the lack of resistance had clued him in, though his mind wasn't exactly working at full tilt right now. "T'ny?" He pushed himself up on one arm, just enough to see that the bathroom door was open and the light off. He sighed and flopped back onto the bed. He'd suspected that Tony was getting up in the middle of the night to get more work done, but this was the first time he had any evidence.   
  
He rubbed at his eyes and wondered about what to do. He wanted to get up, find Tony, and drag him back to bed, but would that do any good? Maybe the best thing to do was give him time to come back on his own, like Bucky himself had needed at first. He laid in bed, mulling it over. Eventually he tossed the blankets off with a huff. He was being an idiot-- of course Tony needed a push. They'd been waiting for Tony to snap out of his work binge for weeks and nothing happened. What got them results was talking to him. Well, he amended to himself, Rhodey was the one that talked to him and helped fix his packed schedule.   
  
Maybe Bucky talking to him wouldn't help, but hopefully it wouldn't hurt, either. He slid on some shoes because the last time he'd gone into the 'shop without any foot protection, Tony had looked at him like he had lost his mind and given him a lecture. Tony. Had given him a lecture. It was ridiculous, in his opinion, considering that Tony didn't always use the proper safety procedures, but apparently there were a few things he was a stickler about-- and feet being covered was one of them.   
  
He looked ridiculous in running shoes with the backs of them folded under his heel and the rest of him clad in pajamas, but he'd only be seeing Tony and lord knew that he didn't care what Bucky wore.   
  
He padded out of their room, rubbing at his shoulder where the prosthetic was sitting. It ached a little, but that was expected. He stopped for an ear popping yawn. He rubbed at his face and continued on to the elevator. He reached the elevator doors, and they didn't automatically open for him. He frowned, staring at them blankly. Did he push the call button? Maybe that's why it wasn't working. He looked to the side where the button would usually be, and then he remembered that Jarvis was in charge of the elevator. He tapped on the door, using his prosthetic so it pinged in the quiet around him. "Jarvis? You awake?" Tony had said that Jarvis never slept, and since he was essentially a computer program, that made sense. He was more sapient than not though, so it felt unilaterally strange for him to not respond. "Jarvis?"   
  
He still didn't react. With a mental shrug, Bucky turned around and made his way to the stairwell. The main one was beside the elevator, but there was a secondary one that went straight to his workshop, no doors for the other floors shown along the way. He wasn't entirely sure why it existed because when he asked Tony about it, he said something about DUM-E vandalizing the main one and locking him out of the stairwell entirely somehow wasn't an option. Whatever, the point was that he didn't want to risk running into anyone else, even if that person was going to be a non-judgmental janitor.   
  
He wasn't expecting to see anyone on their private floor, so he jumped when he saw a figure hunched over in the living room. "Shit!"   
  
The person's head jerked up, revealing none other than Obadiah Stane.   
  
"Sorry," Bucky said, rubbing his hand over his racing heart, "I didn't know anyone else was up here. Did you and Tony have a meeting?"   
  
"Yes," Stane said with a too large smile. "You know Tony, the best thing about him is also the worst thing: he's always working."   
  
"I do know." Bucky sighed. "He's down in the workshop isn't he."   
  
"Yes. Not sure that boy ever sleeps," he said with a laugh that sounded forced.   
  
It irked Bucky, but he wrote it off as him never having liked Stane. He saw Stane surreptitiously set a tablet back on the couch, and he frowned. Was he snooping? And, come to think of it, since when did Tony meet with anyone this late at night? Video conferences maybe, but those were planned weeks in advance and Stane was right here in front of him, not half way across the world. "What were you talking about? In your meeting? I didn't think Tony had meetings this late, it must have been important."   
  
"It wasn't quite that formal." Stane was in a suit, and there was no way Tony had changed into one of his own. "Just a few concerns I had that I wanted to talk to him about."   
  
"In the middle of the night?"   
  
"What's with the curiosity, Mister Barnes? I'm sure Tony will tell you if he sees fit. Now if you'll excuse me."   
  
Bucky must have been ten feet away, so he couldn't actually block the path, but he stepped in the way of where Stane was about to walk. "What are you really doing here?"   
  
The smile that had been pasted to his face fell, and he reached into his coat.   
  
Bucky reacted on instinct, ducking down and forward to tackle him. The gun fell from Stane's hand and spun across the floor a couple feet away. Stane punched him, the thick ring on his finger cutting Bucky's cheek. It jostled him enough that Stane was able to turn over and reach for the gun. Bucky didn't think, he just pulled back his arm and curled the prosthetic hand into a fist, slamming it into the back of Stane's head. His head cracked against the floor, but Bucky ignored that, grabbing the gun and ejecting the magazine. He threw the gun in one direction and the bullets in the other, and he scrambled away.   
  
"Tony? Tony!" He ran about the floor, kicking off his shoes because he was tripping over them now. "Tony!" He started to head for the stairs before stopping and spinning to a different direction. If Tony were actually down in the 'shop, Stane wouldn't have told him that Tony was working. He kept calling his name as he ran around in a panic. He was about to run back to their room and grab his phone when he heard running water in the bathroom he had used before he moved into Tony's room. He yelled Tony's name again, pounding on the door. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. With no response from Tony, he took a deep breath and stepped back, kicking the door in.   
  
The tub was running, and even though the water level wasn't too high, Bucky could see Tony's motionless body. "Oh my god," he breathed. He jumped into action, turning off the faucet and stumbling into the tub, pulling Tony's head and shoulders onto his lap. His lips were tinged blue, and as far as Bucky could tell, he wasn't breathing. "No no no, come on Tony you're fine. You- you have to be fine." His fingers fumbled at the drain, unable to gain purchase in the freezing water-- or maybe that was the numbness in his chest. He slipped when he tried to stand, but after another try, he managed to find his feet, pulling Tony out of the tub with him. He laid him on his side, brushing the hair away from his forehead with a quivering hand. "I'll be right back, Tony I swear, just hang on."   
  
He ran out of the bathroom and to their bedroom, slipping because of his wet feet every so often, but he made it. His phone took far too long to respond, and he accidentally opened the music app instead of his contacts at first. He wanted to curse at his phone, but his voice caught in his throat. He managed to dial the short number though, tears springing to his eyes as he ran back to the bathroom as it rang.   
  
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"   
  
"I've um, my boyfriend, he's-."   
  
"Sir, take a deep breath." Bucky did so. "Do you need an ambulance?"   
  
"Yes," he choked out.   
  
"Where are you?"   
  
"Stark Tower, seven-" his voice quivered and he swallowed, trying again, "seventy first floor."   
  
He heard rapid typing in the background before the woman's voice came back on. "An ambulance and a squad car have been dispatched to your location, please stay on the line. Can you tell me what happened to your boyfriend?"   
  
"He- he was drowning." Bucky was back in the bathroom, kneeling beside Tony's body. "Uh- the bathroom. The tub."   
  
"Did he take anything?" When Bucky didn't answer, confused into silence, she added, "Sir, did your boyfriend take any drugs? Anything that the paramedics need to know about-- he won't be prosecuted for it."   
  
Bucky shook his head, holding Tony close to him with his prosthetic and rocking back and forth instinctually. "I don't think so. I- I haven't seen him take anything, but I wasn't here earlier, I don't know what he might have done to him."   
  
"Is there someone else there?"   
  
Bucky's breath hitched with his sobs, and he tried to focus and keep his voice steady enough to be understood. "Yes I- he's knocked out. I mean, I think he is, I was just trying to find Tony I don't know if he's still here, I'm sorry."   
  
"It's okay sir, take a deep breath, you're about to hyperventilate."   
  
Bucky gasped for air, trying to keep his breaths calm and even, but he didn't know how well he accomplished that.   
  
"The paramedics are almost there, they'll call out when they get close to you, and it would help your boyfriend if you answer them so they can find you sooner. Do you understand?"   
  
Bucky nodded, still rocking back and forth. Tony hadn't moved the entire time Bucky was holding him, and he wasn't sure his heart was even beating. "Yes," he croaked. The woman continued to talk to him, trying to figure out what happened, but whatever smidgen of calm Bucky had managed to keep until now was gone. He barely managed to call out when he heard the paramedics arrive, but he did, and that's what he needed to remember.   
  
He tried to tell himself that everything would be fine, but when they started saying things like 'not breathing' and 'no pulse', his mind whited out. He felt so cold, shivering in place.   
  
Next thing he knew, there was a blanket around his shoulders, and he was being led to an ambulance. It was crowded with all of them in there, but he didn't notice, huddled in the corner and attempting to get his brain to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Obadiah uses the paralysing tech on Tony (like in the movie), he drags Tony to a bathroom, puts the plug in and turns on the shower, leaving him to drown. As he’s leaving, he runs into Bucky. There’s a struggle with a gun, and Bucky hits him in the head with his prosthetic, knocking him out. Bucky calls an ambulance, but he’s pretty convinced that Tony’s already dead.


	8. The Hospital

Bucky didn't know much, but by the time he came back around to perceiving the world around him, he knew that he wasn't with Tony anymore. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he started panicking. He had to be sedated because he wasn't calming down, and the next time he came to, Steve was sitting in the chair beside his bed. "Ste'e?"    
  
Steve's head shot up, and he smiled in relief, grabbing a cup with a straw in it and pouring water. He held it up to Bucky's lips and let him sip, still holding it when Bucky was done. He sat back down-- right next to the bed because he'd pulled the chair over. "Hey Buck. How are you feeling?"    
  
Bucky licked his lips. "Where's Tony?"    
  
"Where do you think? Another room in this hospital. How do you feel?"    
  
"Tired." Maybe a little sore, but there was a lightness to his limbs that meant he was on some sort of painkillers. "What happened?"    
  
"You don't remember?"    
  
"Steve. Where's Tony? And Stane? Did he get away?"    
  
"I don't know."    
  
"You don't have to protect me, I just need to know that Tony's safe."    
  
"I don't know, Bucky, honest. The only reason I'm here is because I'm your medical proxy. Since neither of us are Tony's, they won't tell me anything."    
  
"Will they tell me?" he croaked.    
  
"I don't think so. When I tried to ask, they said something about it not mattering that you came in together. I- uh, I think the cops want to talk to you. About what happened."    
  
"Why?"    
  
Steve started to look concerned-- beyond 'my friend is in the hospital' concerned. "You do remember, right?"    
  
"I--" Bucky's voice got caught in his throat, and he started coughing. "Yeah," he managed. "I remember it all." He didn't want to. God he'd do anything to get that imagine of Tony floating lifelessly in the tub out of his head forever. Not to mention that the last time someone had pointed a gun at him, he'd lost an arm. Give him a couple weeks, and he would have nightmares about Stane too.    
  
Someone knocked on the door, cracking it open. When they saw Bucky was awake, they walked in-- 'they' being a nurse and two police officers. "How are you feeling Mister Barnes?" the nurse asked.    
  
"Alright. Is something wrong?" He eyed the cops, blindly reaching for Steve's hand and squeezing in a plea for him to stay.    
  
"We're here to ask you a few questions."    
  
"But only if you're feeling up for it," the nurse added.    
  
"Can Steve stay?"    
  
The cops shared a look and nodded.    
  
"Yeah," Bucky said, swallowing thickly, "now is fine."    
  
"If you need anything, just press the call button." The nurse nodded at Bucky then the police officers and left, closing the door behind her.    
  
"Mister Barnes, we're investigating the death of Obadiah Stane. There are a few blanks that we'd like for you to fill in, if you can."    
  
Something in Bucky halted. "He's dead?"    
  
The police officers shared another look, this one notably more uncomfortable. "Sorry sir, we thought you knew."    
  
Numbly, Bucky shook his head. It was good that he couldn't hurt Tony again, but he'd imagined that that would be achieved from the inside of a prison cell, not death.    
  
"Oh." He cleared his throat. "Well, we expect that it was self-defense, you're not in danger, we just wanted to clear up the situation."    
  
"Okay," he said quietly. It was good that he wasn't going to be arrested, but... Stane was dead. Good god, Tony was not going to deal with any of this well. It wasn't enough that Stane was an old friend that tried to kill him, but now he was dead and Tony wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing him put away-- assuming that was even something Tony would want. Bucky didn't know about anything at this point.    
  
"Would you mind telling us what happened?"    
  
"We understand it will be difficult, but it would be great if you could give us as much detail as possible. From the beginning, or as close to it as you can get."    
  
"Right. Well uh. I got out of bed to look for Tony-- I thought he was working, and he's been working too hard recently, so." His throat clicked, and he coughed to get rid of the tickle. Steve gave him some more water. "I saw Stane when I was looking for him, and I thought that it was strange that he was there, so I asked him some questions. He must have known I was suspicious, and he pulled a gun. I... we struggled and I got the gun away. I hit him on the head and took off looking for Tony." He shrugged one shoulder, feeling the pull of tears in his eyes. "Found him face down in the tub with the water running, and he wasn't moving. I- I pulled him out and got my phone and called nine-one-one." His throat worked, trying to get him to sob, but he forced it down. "And that's it. Is Tony okay?"    
  
"I'm sorry sir, but we're not at liberty to share that information." It was a line for sure, but he looked sincere when he said it.    
  
Bucky nodded, his head hung. "Is that all you needed?"    
  
"I think so. If we have any other questions, we'll call you."    
  
"Okay."    
  
"Thank you officers," Steve said, giving Bucky's hand a comforting squeeze. They nodded at both of them before taking their leave, closing the door solidly behind them. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Buck. You should feel safe in your home." When Bucky didn't say anything, he started up a one-sided conversation, not bothered by it and knowing that it's what Bucky needed at the moment. "Sorry I didn't send you more emails, but the last mission was kind of crazy. I didn't really have the time to send you more, but I guess if I'd made it more a priority I could have done it. That mission was a cluster-fuck though, very tiring. I'd go into details, but it's classified. Blah, blah, blah I'm sure it will be de-classified in a year or two cause that's how it always goes, you know? I was always happy to see your emails though, even if I didn't reply to them. It's been great hearing about the prosthetics project and how well it's been going. New body armor is great and all, but this is a game changer. It helps everyone, not just soldiers, you know?" 

Steve chuckled at himself, running his free hand through his short cropped hair. "I haven't talked this much uninterrupted since the last time I saw you, and look at me; I'm repeating myself. I um, I'm retiring. I know it's a bit ahead of schedule-" twenty years ahead "-but I've done some thinking. You're my best friend. I miss you, and over there, without you... it's just not the same. I know I had some big master plan for how my life was going to go, but hell I've changed that before, right? Getting used to the civilian life is going to be a bitch and a half, but I've got you to help me with that. My contract isn't up for another four months, so you'll be long gone from here by the time I get back."    
  
Bucky tugged on Steve's hand until Steve got the idea and leaned over on top of him for a hug. Bucky held him there for so long that Steve started to get stiff from holding the position, but he didn't dare move. He'd missed Bucky more than he could put into words, and the idea that Bucky had been hurt-- had been so close to getting killed-- and he hadn't been there to watch his back was eating him alive.    
  
He didn't move until Bucky's grip on him had gone lax, and he drifted off to sleep. He extricated himself carefully, pulling up Bucky's blanket so he didn't get cold.    


* * *

There was a knock on the door, and this time it wasn't a nurse or the police. "Hey Rhodey," Bucky said. "It's been a while." Not truly that long, but with everything going on, it felt like it had been ages.    
  
"It has." He glanced at Steve, straightening his back when he took him in. He held out a hand. "You must be Steve."    
  
Steve stood up to shake his hand, trying to give him a subtle once over. He didn't have the time-- or, quite frankly, the energy-- to ogle, but damn was he handsome. "Yep. You're Tony's best friend right?"    
  
"That's what he tells me." He let go of Steve's hand, walking to the end of Bucky's bed but still leaving a comfortable distance. "How do you feel?"    
  
"Like I wish everyone would stop asking me that," Bucky joked weakly. "I'm fine. How's Tony?"    
  
"He got out of ICU today, but he hasn't woken up yet. He's going to live, but there's some lasting damage to his heart and lungs. Might be brain damage."    
  
"Brain damage?" Bucky repeated, voice shaking.    
  
"Because of the lack of oxygen. They're not sure though. They said we'll know once he wakes up, see if anything's missing, that whole drill."    
  
Bucky swallowed thickly. "Steve? Could you give us a minute?"    
  
Steve hesitated, glancing between the two of them before nodding. "I'll be right outside if you need me." He leaned over and kissed Bucky's head, nodding at Rhodey as he left.    
  
As soon as the door closed, Bucky rasped out, "I'm sorry."    
  
"For what? You didn't do anything wrong."    
  
"I waited. I didn't want to get out of bed, and I almost went back to sleep." He wiped at his eyes harshly. "If I'd gotten out of bed as soon as I woke up, this wouldn't have happened."    
  
"Bucky. Bucky, look at me." He waited until Bucky raised his eyes to meet his own. "What happened is not your fault. It's not anybody but Stane's."    
  
Bucky dropped his eyes, shaking his head. "I should have known something was off."    
  
"You think I don't feel that way too?" Rhodey said softly. "I keep thinking that maybe if I'd stuck around a little longer, I could have stopped this from happening. And you know, the first time I met Stane, I didn't like him. But he was important to Tony, so I wrote it off as me being overprotective. Then this happened and-." He cut off with a miserable chuckle. "Tony's going to blame himself when he wakes up. We're all blaming ourselves for things that aren't our fault. It's not easy to change how you feel, but- you should remember that you're not to blame."    


* * *

Bucky was released from the hospital. He'd mostly been suffering from shock, but he'd hyper-extended his elbow and pulled too hard on the prosthetic-- which had to be taken off and examined for damage. His shoulder was bruised, and his elbow was wrapped with strict instructions to not lift anything over two pounds.    
  
At that point, the penthouse had been cleaned up from the... incident. Crime photos had been taken, and after they declared it done, the cleaning staff had fixed it up. Bucky didn't think there was much to fix, but he was relieved that he didn't have to deal with it himself.    
  
If Stane had left any blood behind, it was now gone, and the water was sopped up. Bucky had no intention of ever going into that bathroom again. Hell, he couldn't manage walking into any bathroom with a tub now. He'd tried and had a panic attack. The same day that he'd gone home-- with Steve at his side, of course-- Rhodey had called to say that Tony had woken up and was allowed visitors now. "He asked about you."    
  
Bucky swallowed thickly. "Yeah?"    
  
"Yeah. He's on some pretty heavy pain killers right now so he was out before he could say anything, but I think he'd like it if you were here."    
  
"I'll be right over." He stopped, looked at Steve and clenched the phone a little tighter. "Um I- can Steve come with me?"    
  
"That's your best friend right? The big blonde guy?"   
  
"Yeah."    
  
"Yeah, totally. I'm not sure if they'll actually let him in the room, but I'll ask. If Tony wakes up again before you get here, I'll run it by him. See you soon?"    
  
Bucky nodded, then realized he had to say something out loud. "See you soon. Take care."    
  
"You too."    
  
Bucky hung up and held the phone to his chest. Why was breathing so difficult? It shouldn't be this hard. His elbow started to hurt, and he winced, slowly bringing his hand down and sliding his phone in his pocket. "Tony woke up," he told Steve.    
  
"That's good. I take it they're letting people visit?"    
  
He nodded.    
  
"I also take it that I'm going with you?"    
  
"If you want," he said quietly.    
  
"Course, Buck." Steve put an arm around him, giving the smallest squeeze he was capable of so he could comfort him without hurting him. "Did you want to eat something before we head back?"    
  
He shook his head. He could tell Steve wanted to argue with him about it, but he let it go, probably planning on shoving something down his throat once they were at the hospital. That was fine. For all hospital food was notoriously bad, it was somehow easier to keep down-- maybe that was the trick they were working down in the cafeteria.    


* * *

Steve and Rhodey talked, but all Bucky could manage were uninterested hums, too focused on watching Tony for the slightest sign of wakefulness.    
  
Bucky had expected something momentous when Tony woke up, for some reason. All that happened was that he woke up to cough, eyes glancing over all of them like he didn't recognize them, shifting in place, and falling back asleep. It was more than Bucky had feared would never happen again though, so he took it all in gratefully.    
  
The next time was more conscious. He stirred awake, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. He tilted his hand to the side-- towards Bucky-- and Bucky grabbed his hand gently, touch feather light for fear of breaking him somehow. "Hey sweetheart," he said, tremulous smile on his face.    
  
Tony managed to tick one corner of his mouth back in return. Bucky held his hand until he fell asleep, and then a little longer.    
  
"It's seven," Steve said, softly so as to not startle him. "Visiting hours are over."    
  
Bucky's shoulders hunched over.    
  
"I know, Buck, but we have to leave. He'll still be here tomorrow. If anything happens, they'll call James, and he'll call you."    
  
Haltingly, Bucky got out of the chair and through the door, Steve and Rhodey behind him. They walked through the hallways with no conversation until the end, with Steve and Rhodey exchanging 'nice to meet you's and 'see you tomorrow's before they split ways. They were all sleeping in the same place, so Bucky was confused, but Rhodey explained, "I have to take care of a few company things for him. Canceling meetings, letting people know he won't be in for a while... that sort of thing."    
  
Bucky nodded, and they all continued on their way. "So," Bucky said, trying to find his teasing voice. It was harder than he thought it would be. "Since when do you call people 'James' instead of a nickname?"    
  
Steve rolled his eyes, but his skin was too fair to hide the faint blush. "It's how he introduced himself to me, I'm not going to be rude."    
  
"You didn't have a problem being rude to me."    
  
"I was seven, and you're a punk."    
  
"And you don't think he's a punk?"    
  
Steve pinned him with a flat look.    
  
"I'm just sayin' Stevie. I've spent some time with him, he's not as apple pie as you're dreaming."    
  
"He's a colonel."    
  
"And you're a captain, shit's wild."    
  
"Yes, but I'm resigning my commission soon."    
  
"You don't think he is?"    
  
Steve pulled up short, looking at Bucky. "Did he say he was going to?"    
  
"No," Bucky admitted. "But c'mon, I mean, his best friend nearly died. He's not gonna trust me to take care of him when I didn't notice that anything was wrong."    
  
"What do you mean? I thought you said that something was going on with him a few weeks ago."    
  
"He was working more, not getting attacked. I was worried that-." Bucky stopped shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go home."    
  
"Bucky--"    
  
"Drop it," he said sharply. Steve did, looking worried for the entire trip to the tower. "Jarvis?" Bucky checked as soon as they walked in.    
  
"Here, sir."    
  
Bucky nodded to himself, hugging his middle with his one arm and leaning into Steve. "How are the Howlies?"    
  
"Not the Howlies without you there, Buck."    
  
"You've got everyone else."    
  
"It's not the same." Steve took a deep breath. "Nothing's the same. It doesn't feel right anymore. I told them that I'm leaving soon; they were all good with it. Dum Dum's the only one that's really planning on sticking it out. The rest of us are... packing up. Shipping home."    
  
"It hasn't even been a year," Bucky mused, "and somehow everything has changed. I thought we'd all be there until our golden years."    
  
"I think we all did." He shook his head. "Never thought I'd be getting another reality check by the time I was thirty. Not one this big, anyways."    
  
"What do you mean?"    
  
Steve shrugged, shoulders tight. "It was war, we all knew we could get hurt or die, but it just... wasn't real somehow. Not until you went down. I don't even know how that happened because we've all seen other people get hurt-- hell, we've rescued them a couple of times. It's not anything new, really but it- it took me this long to actually feel it."    
  
"Yeah," Bucky said quietly. "I know what you mean." He'd thought that he understood the danger, but then he got hit and it was like when he'd first joined up-- he didn't have the faintest idea what was going on. To make it all worse, he'd thought he was done with the realizations like this when he came back to the States. He wasn't in the military anymore, and Tony had some of the highest security on the planet. He'd never have thought that something like this could happen to Tony over here, and his flippancy for the day to day dangers people faced had a price. That wasn't even what bothered him most; it was that Tony had been the one to pay that price.    
  
They made it up to the penthouse, and Bucky itched to check the rooms. He held himself back because he didn't want Steve to think he was losing his mind, but it was making him jumpy. Steve didn't say anything about it, just went over to the far side of the floor where he was staying and peeked inside the open doors. Bucky knew Steve was giving him an out, and he took it. He went to his and Tony's bedroom and checked the bathroom there, then he came out and checked the little half-bath near the living room. There wasn't a tub in there obviously, but the toilet would be enough if someone wanted it to be.    
  
"So," Bucky said, trying to pretend that their checking the rooms interlude never happened, "What do you want to eat?"    
  
Steve looked at him for a second like he was assessing something. Bucky had no idea what he saw there, but he ended up saying, "Let's just order in some Chinese."    
  
Because they were at the top, Jarvis was the one to handle such transactions. He had a little pen he could control, so he signed for the food and told them to set it in the elevator he sent down. It let them get food without having to come into contact with anyone, and Steve knew that. If Bucky didn't only love him platonically, he'd be head over heels in love, probably to the point that he wouldn't notice that other people even existed.    
  
By the time Rhodey got back, it was late enough to consider a snack. Luckily, he'd brought home pizza to share, and they all ignored the Tony shaped elephant in the room-- pretended it didn't even exist. They weren't good actors, but it was enough.    
  
Bucky went to bed in their room. He closed the bathroom door to where it was only cracked open instead of all the way, and he turned the light on. The bed felt a little empty without Tony in it, but Bucky had gone to sleep without him there before, and he really was tired. Maybe he wouldn't notice.    
  
Except every time he started to drift off, he'd get hit with a wave of panic. He'd see the empty bed and look to the bathroom. At seeing that the light was on, his heart would stop jack hammering, and he would relax back into his pillow. Tony was fine, he was in the hospital being taken care of. When he actually fell asleep, all he could feel was the distinct lack of another weight on the mattress, and this time it wasn't enough to see that the bathroom light was on. He ran in, falling to his knees in front of the toilet and dry heaving.    
  
He got to his feet on shaky legs, for a minute thrown that he didn't have anything on his left arm and nearly braining himself on the counter because of it. After he noticed that he only had the one arm again, it was easy to balance himself out. He turned on the faucet, barely a trickle to keep himself calm, and washed the taste of bile out his mouth. His whole body was shaking, and normally he would want nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but bed was where the problem was. He went out into the living room with the blanket from the bed and turned on a sitcom. It's where he spent the rest of the night, eventually falling into a fitful sleep on the couch.


	9. Some Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: The Pain Doesn't Stop

Bucky had cried when Tony woke up enough to actually carry a conversation, and the first time they were alone, he stumbled all over himself apologizing. Tony had no idea what he was apologizing for, but he pet Bucky's hair and said it was okay all the same. When he got to be alone with Rhodey, he asked if he knew what was going on.

"What do you mean?"

"With Bucky. He was apologizing, and he just- he was so upset I didn't want to ask him what he was talking about."

"Ah. That." Rhodey shifted in his seat, then got up and perched on the edge of Tony's bed to hold his hand. "He sort of... blames himself. For Stane."

"What? Why the hell would he do that?"

"He thinks he should have seen what was going on. I mean, people don't just wake up one morning and decide to murder someone. There are always signs."

"Is that why he's upset or why you're upset?"

"Both," Rhodey said with a wry smile.

Tony let his head drop back into the pillow. "Fuck." He let out a wet laugh. "You won't leave me, right Rhodey?"

"Of course not. But why are you thinking that Bucky's going to leave? If anything he's going to glue himself to your side."

Tony gave him a flat look, the effect somewhat ruined by the tears falling down his cheeks. "I knew that Stane couldn't be trusted, and I never said anything to him. He's going to think I don't trust him." He wiped at his nose and rubbed it off on the hospital gown.

"He won't think that," Rhodey said, but he wasn't certain of the truth in that statement. "This whole thing is a mess, Tones. We're not going to fix it just by saying that it wasn't that person's fault."

"We should be able to," he said stubbornly, wiping at his nose again.

Rhodey stood up to grab the tissues at the side of the room and brought them back, setting them on Tony's lap. "Okay. Then this is me trying that out. Tony? It's not your fault someone tried to kill you."

"If I'd acted sooner, I could have--"

"No you _couldn't_ Tony. Nobody saw this coming. We knew he was dangerous, but we never thought he'd get physical with it. You had _no reason_ to think something like this would happen. Okay?"

Tony was quiet as he blew his nose, piling used tissues on his bed like it was the new style. "Yeah you're right; this method is shit."

"How convenient for you," Rhodey said.

"What? I had to check. Scientific method or something."

"'Or something'?" he repeated.

"I'm sick, don't argue with me."

Rhodey pulled out his phone and started tapping out a message. "You don't look sick."

Tony gave him an extremely incredulous look and gestured to his body. "Are you even looking at me?"

"Nope," Rhodey said with a cheeky grin, eyes pointedly kept on his screen.

"You're a little shit, you know that, right?"

"Yep, and I'm here with my little shit best friend." He set his phone down and gently ruffled Tony's hair. "And you're littler than me, which makes you shittier."

"That's not how this works."

"You're the rich one man, I gotta have something going for me."

"You're stunningly attractive?"

"Careful," Bucky joked from the doorway, voice still croaky with emotion, "I'll start to get jealous."

Rhodey snorted. "Don't bother, Bucky. Where's your friend Steve?" he asked, a little too casually to be _truly_ casual.

"Getting coffee."

"Coffee?" Tony said, perking up hopefully.

"You don't need anymore drugs in your system sweetheart," Bucky said apologetically. "I think you'll survive not--" he winced at his wording and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You'll be fine without coffee for a while. I uh, you know Rhodey, I don't think Steve would mind your help, if you wanted to- you know."

"Yeah." Rhodey stood and pressed a kiss to Tony's head. He clapped his hand on Bucky's shoulder as he walked past.

Bucky moved to Tony's vacated side, unfortunately keeping his distance, like Tony had somehow changed his mind about wanting him around now that he was awake enough to be aware of everything going on around him. His shoulder was still too bruised to put the prosthetic back on, and it was readjusting all over again. "How do you feel?"

"Alright. Light headed. Little fuzzy." Tony wet his lips and carefully grabbed his water to take a sip. His right hand was a little jerky, so he used his left hand, more grateful than ever that he was ambidextrous. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Bucky lied.

Tony didn't look the least bit convinced. "Okay," was all he said though. "I- uh, wanted to talk to you. About something."

Bucky took a bracing breath and nodded. His back was straight as a rod, and the set of his jaw made it look like he was facing the court, not his boyfriend.

_If that's even what we are,_ Tony said to himself. After all, they never made that date. _We were going to talk_ , he thought, a touch desperately. They were going to talk about everything and figure out what they were to each other and now who the fuck knew what was going on between them. "You're not going to be- uh, happy with me. When I tell you. So I want you to know that I'm not kicking you out or anything, but I'm also not forcing you to stay if- if you want to leave. Okay?" He waited for Bucky to nod before starting. "Obie... Stane. I knew he was dangerous, and I didn't tell you." Bucky flinched, but his expression was unreadable. He wasn't looking at Tony anymore. "I didn't want you to worry about something you had no control over, so I didn't tell you. I never... I _never_ thought he would do something like that."

"Then why did you think he was dangerous?" Bucky asked, and his voice was measured, carefully devoid of any emotion.

Tony stared at him for a moment, hoping for Bucky to break and let Tony know what he was feeling. He didn't. Tony shifted his gaze to the plastic cup in front of him. He rotated it to keep his hands busy, and let his eyes focus on the shifting of the water. "He was dealing under the table. Ten Rings? He's- he's how they... had all those weapons. He was stealing inventory, bribing people to look the other way and change records, and then selling it overseas." Tony swallowed, throat working around a lump that had no right to be there since he hadn't eaten anything since he woke up. "I confronted him, and..." He cleared his throat, and it felt like it was scraped raw. "Well. The Board has always been pretty bigoted and narrow-minded. I was working on talking them around, and I guess he knew that he didn't have the upper hand anymore." His hand stilled. "You and Rhodey asked me if I was dying," he recalled, a humorless smile curving around one corner of his mouth. "I bet this wasn't the alternative you were hoping before." He glanced at Bucky from the corner of his eye, but he jerked to face him fully when he stood.

Bucky got to his feet- and left. Turned and walked out of the room without a word.

Tony sunk back into his pillow and tried to pretend the tears welling up in his eyes were because of the drugs they were feeding him. He wasn't very successful.

* * *

Bucky made it to the public bathroom and locked himself in a stall. He leaned his elbow on his knee and covered his mouth with his hand to contain heaving sobs. Not that anyone would think twice about someone crying in a hospital, but it would be loud, even his breathing was grating on his ears as he tried to focus on a single part of the chaos that was crowding his mind and bouncing around, each part demanding attention to the point that he couldn't pick a single piece apart from the group.

Tony didn't trust him. They'd talked. They had talked about going on a date, and Tony was trying to keep his company from being wrenched away from him. Why had he agreed to that? Tony didn't trust him with the details of his life. If Bucky hadn't been there, would Tony have even told him about Stane? Or would he have made up some bullshit excuse about a lab accident? Tony didn't _fucking_ trust him, and- and that was all there was to it.

Eventually he stopped crying, but he was shivering from the cold of the bathroom, had a headache from crying so much, and was nursing a dry throat. He was thirsty and wanted to clean up-- maybe get rid of the tears and snot because it was starting to feel gross and sticky-- but he couldn't bring himself to leave the stall yet.

A while later, he did leave. Turned on the tap for the sink and splashed his face, then grabbed paper towels and rubbed them harshly against his skin. By the time he was done, his face was red and irritated, but at least now the rest of his face matched his eyes.

He ran into Steve when he finally left the timeless haven that was the bathroom. Steve perked up at seeing him and walked over, but when he took in Bucky's state, his face shifted to concerned. "Hey what's wrong?" he asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If it's about Tony, he's okay, J--" Steve stuttered to a stop when Bucky flinched at hearing Tony’s name. "Bucky, what's going on?"

Bucky swallowed roughly, shaking his head. He made to move around Steve, but his hand tightened on Bucky's shoulder and he raised his other arm to keep him from fleeing.

"I know that this is cheating," Steve said, "but I don't care. What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Bucky shook his head. "'m fine."

Steve looked like he wanted to argue that point. He looked like he wanted to argue that _very_ very much. "Is it a... bad day?" he said glancing at the empty space where an arm or a prosthetic should be. He made a face at his wording and tried again. "I mean, is it getting to you? Or does it hurt? Or... christ Bucky I don't know. You're obviously not okay; talk to me."

"It's Tony," he said, feeling like the words were forced out of his throat.

Steve's expression turned sad. "Did he break up with you?"

"No."

"Then I need you to elaborate Buck, cause I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

"You can't help me."

"That's a really fucking scary thing to say Bucky," he said, hands going tight to the point of pain.

"No I don't- I didn't mean it like that. Jesus Steve I didn't mean it like that, I swear. Tony- he just- he--." Bucky stopped, swallowing roughly. "It's a relationship thing," he said haltingly. "I know you want to help, but you can't because you're not involved. This is between me and him. Okay?"

"You don't have to do this alone," Steve reminded him.

"I'm _not_ doing this alone, I have Tony."

"Tony, who just had an old friend try to murder him. I know you love him Buck, but he's not omnipotent. He can't take care of both of you."

"I know!" Bucky shouted, giving Steve a hard shove that dislodged his hands and he stepped back, more in shock than because of the force Bucky put in. "I fucking know," he said, voice a harsh whisper, "that he's hurting, and I'm not trying to dump all my shit on him. We are having a fucking _relationship problem_ which makes it _between us_ which means I'm not dealing with this alone, it means I'm dealing with it _with Tony_. Get it? It's between me and Tony so I have Tony to deal with it. Do you understand now shit head?" He pushed at Steve's shoulder like he was looking for a fight, but when, several seconds later, Steve didn't do anything, Bucky left. His face twisted, and he stomped off, pretending like he didn't feel a disgusting stickiness of shame creeping over him.


	10. Is This What Communicating Feels Like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some apologies and conversations.

He made it four steps down the hall before he stopped cold. The blood drained from his face, and he whirled around, going back out the way he came. Steve was still standing there, and he looked sad but not devastated. His look turned hopeful when he saw Bucky, and Bucky stumbled towards him.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry Steve, I don't know what I- fuck I'm sorry; I'm so so sorry." When he got close, he reached out his hand and fisted it in Steve's shirt, using the feel of soft cotton as an anchor as he tucked his wet face against Steve's neck. "I'm sorry, you didn't- oh my god Steve I can't believe I said any of that to you."

Steve put his arms around Bucky's shaking body and whispered reassurances into his ear. He steered his friend into one of the hard plastic chairs that populated hospitals but didn't let go, rubbing circles against his back and hoping that it was doing something to help.

Bucky's sobs tapered off, and he caught his breath. "I got snot on your shirt," he said, sniffling.

Steve gave a surprised chuckle and glanced at his shoulder-- sure enough, his shirt had splotches of darker blue where Bucky had pressed his face while he was crying. "Don't worry about it. You okay?"

"I called you a shit head," he said quietly, shamefully, "and all you're going to do is ask me if I'm okay?"

Steve gave a small shrug. "You apologized. And I know that you didn't mean it, and that you're dealing with a lot, so... yeah, I don't want you to worry about it." Steve pretended not to notice as Bucky rubbed at his cheeks, staying close. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently. "We don't have to, but I think it could do you some good. You're like an emotional bomb right now, you need to let out some of the pressure."

"That's a mixed analogy," Bucky said thickly. He needed some tissues, but it's not like he had some in his pocket (although that was certainly an idea worth looking into).

Steve laughed again, and if he was playing up any and all humor that crossed his path to make Bucky feel better, well, that was his business and no one else's. "Yeah, maybe so. Am I wrong?"

"No," Bucky admitted. Only instead of opening up to Steve like he'd been expecting when he offered, Bucky got to his feet and gave him a look that was half-grateful, half-apologetic. "I need to talk to Tony, I--" he stopped, licked his lips and tasting the salt from his tears, and glanced at the hallway that led back to Tony's room. "I have to talk to him, but thank you. For- for offering. You know- you know that I love you, right Steve?" he asked, and he actually looked uncertain as to what Steve's response would be.

"Course I do," Steve said immediately. "And I love you too. We said till the end of the line, right?" He gave Bucky a crooked smile, and it did more to comfort him than anything Steve said.

"Right." He ducked down and pulled Steve into a desperate-- if awkward because of the angle-- hug. "I love you. And we'll," he glanced towards Tony's room again, "we'll talk more later. Okay?"

Steve nodded, and Bucky stepped away hesitantly like he was afraid that Steve would change his mind if he went too far.

He made it to Tony's room and hesitated before inching it open. He poked his head in, and Tony jerked to see who it was. He froze when he saw Bucky, afraid to say anything and send him running again.

Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Can I come in?"

Tony nodded.

Bucky stepped inside and shut the door behind him, leaning back against it instead of walking closer. "I'm sorry. I uh, I shouldn't have left, and I'm sorry. I..." he swallowed thickly. "Thank you for- um, telling me. About Stane. I guess I have something to tell you too. About him."

"You do?" Tony asked, frowning slightly.

"Yeah. I don't think anybody told you," he muttered.

"Told me what?"

"Did you know that I ran into Stane as he was leaving? He- hurt you, and then he was leaving, and I saw him."

"Did he attack you?" Tony asked, leaning forward slightly as if he wanted to get out of the bed and check to make sure Bucky was alright.

"Uh." Bucky licked his lips nervously and glanced at his empty shoulder. "A little, but that's not what I wanted to tell you. We fought and I- uh. I didn't know it at the time, but I hit him in the head and it knocked him out. I thought he was just passed out, but apparently it killed him. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," Tony repeated, and there was a note in his voice that Bucky couldn't identify.

"Yeah?"

"Bucky... that man tried to kill me. I'm not exactly going to cry at his funeral."

Bucky took a couple steps closer. "So you're okay? You're not mad at me?"

"Are you mad at me?"

Bucky stared at Tony for a long moment. He was pale, and there were spots of color high on his cheeks that should have added a healthy flush but only served to make him look more ill. His hair was unkempt and greasy, his eyes rimmed in red. He looked vulnerable, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to bundle him up and nurse him back to health. Bucky felt hurt by Tony not trusting him, but the longer he looked, the more he couldn't summon even _that_ emotion. "No. I was never mad at you." He moved a little closer and gingerly sat on the bed. Tentatively, he put his hand over both of Tony's, which were resting lightly on his stomach, careful to keep his touch gentle and weightless. "I'm sorry I left," he said quietly. "You were obviously upset, and I should have stayed here and talked about it with you instead of just leaving."

"You mean it?" Tony asked, voice quivering.

He nodded.

"So, what would you have said? If you'd stayed?"

"I would have said that I wish you could have trusted me enough to tell me sooner."

"Bucky, _no_." Tony turned his hands around and gripped Bucky's as hard as he could. "I trust you, that's not what this was."

"Then what is it?" Because he truly couldn't come up with another reason. Maybe that was a lack of imagination on his part-- distantly, he remembered Steve telling him that the only make-believe he was capable of was sci-fi related.

"I didn't want you to worry," he said. He was pretty sure that he had said that the first time, but he honestly didn't remember. "I wanted you to focus on your recovery instead of worrying about what was going to happen with my company. You have enough to think about without worrying about my future."

"I _want_ to worry about your future."

"You- what?"

"We never- christ." Bucky stopped and hung his head for a moment before shaking his hair out of his eyes and looking at Tony again. "We never talked about it because of what happened with Stane, but- Tony, I want us to be together. I know this isn't the time or the- the place for this kind of conversation, but do you want us to be together too?"

Tony swallowed thickly. "Yes."

"Okay." Bucky nodded to himself. "Okay, then I want you to tell me more about your life. If something's botherin' you, I want to know about it. I don't care if I can't do anything, I want to know. Okay?"

"Okay."

Bucky blew out a breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Tony's. "Thanks doll." He pulled back and kissed Tony's cheek. "I'm sorry I left earlier."

"You've said that," Tony reminded him quietly.

"And you didn't say it was okay, so I'm gonna keep apologizin'." He swallowed. "You needed me here, and I left ya. I swear, I won't do it again."

Tony blinked away tears. "Thank you. Will you- will you stay?"

Bucky nodded. "For as long as they'll let me."

Tony tugged on Bucky's hand, getting him to lean forward enough that it was like they were cuddling on the couch back at the Tower instead of trying to find comfort around the tubes and too thin bed.

A long while later, Bucky was drifting on the edge of sleep, conscious but not fully aware of the world around him. He thought Tony had fallen asleep until he spoke up.

"Did they tell you?"

Bucky rolled his tongue around in his mouth, waking himself up enough to form actual words. "Did who tell me what?"

"The doctors."

"If it's about you, no. They only talk to Rhodey."

Tony made a noise of confirmation in the back of his throat. "That makes sense." He sucked in a breath. "They're saying that there's some damage."

"What kind of damage?" Bucky asked. He wanted to pull back and look Tony in the eye, but maybe this was a conversation best had without that kind of pressure.

"They don't know yet." He gave a humorless laugh. "Can you believe it? They know that there's damage, but they don't know what kind, or how severe. It's bullshit."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Are you suddenly a neurologist?" Tony asked flatly.

"I meant is there anything I can do to make you feel better."

"Oh." Tony blinked rapidly, dropping his head back against his pillow. "Just... this. Stay with me."

Bucky gave a small nod, enough that Tony could feel it, but not so much that it would disturb their position. "Okay. I can do that."

* * *

Talking was hard. Oh Tony was perfectly capable of stringing words together coherently, but talking to Bucky about everything was ridiculously difficult. _Ridiculous_. Bucky was having problems with it too, only for him it was less talking and more making sure that he didn't blow up and then have to come back and apologize.

So Tony grit his teeth, hating that he needed to ask Bucky for help in getting down to the sofa. He almost didn't, but he remembered the promise he'd made to Bucky. He focused on loosening his jaw, and he cleared his throat when he was ready. "Bucky?"

"Yeah hon?"

"I uh." He cleared his throat again. "I can't sit down. By myself."

"Do you want me to help you?"

Tony swallowed down the instant irritation, reminding himself that Bucky wasn't being cruel, he just wanted to make sure that this was what Tony wanted. "Yes." It was humiliating, painful, and Tony didn't want to think about what would be required for him to get back up. By that time, Rhodey and Steve would be back from picking up the food though, and they'd be able to help. Well, Rhodey would. Steve _could_ hypothetically help, but out of the three of them, he was the one Tony was least comfortable with-- Tony would ask him for help if he was the only one around, and not a moment sooner.

Bucky put Tony's bottle of water on the little table next to the armchair along with the meds he was supposed to take with each meal, then settled into the couch on the end that was closest to Tony. He wanted to cuddle up next to Tony, but the unexpected shifting of sitting next to someone was too dangerous for Tony's body with the way it was at the moment.

Bucky wanted to ask Tony how he was feeling, but he bit back the question; Tony had promised that he would mention if he needed help or if something was wrong. "What do you wanna watch?"

"You can pick."

They turned on Jurassic Park and waited for the best friend squad to return with the food.

* * *

Bucky fiddled with the edge of his shirt, looking at Tony nervously. "Are we sharing a bed?"

Tony paused. He hadn't thought about it, and that was probably why Bucky was asking now instead of waiting until they were in the room. "I didn't think about it."

"Do you uh," Bucky licked his lips nervously, "want to?"

"Do _you_ want to?"

"Yes," he said, not hesitating but a little embarrassed by his neediness all the same. "I just..." he trailed off, wondering if telling Tony that he had nightmares about this would be manipulative or not. "I'd like it," was what he settled on. "If we did."

Tony nodded and started moving again. "Okay. I'd uh- like that too."

Bucky still had a nightmare that night, but when he jerked awake, Tony was right there in bed next to him, so it was easier to get back to sleep.

When he woke up for the second time, Tony was gone, but the bathroom door was open. He could hear Tony using the toilet, and while maybe that should have been gross, he just found it comforting. He didn't have to get up and make sure that he was alright, and that was definitely an improvement from Tony's stay in the hospital.

* * *

Steve repacked his bag and set it under the table in the kitchen while he grabbed some water. He probably should have left it in the living room, but he honestly hadn’t thought about it.

"Going somewhere?" Rhodey asked, padding into the kitchen as well and pulling down a mug.

"Yeah." Steve shut the fridge door with perhaps a little more force than was necessary. "Flying back this afternoon."

Rhodey blinked, then set the mug on the counter with a clack. "Already?"

"Yeah. Not really by choice but," he shrugged, "what can you do? I signed a contract, and they're reminding me about that."

"Bucky's not exactly healed."

His shoulders slumped. "I know. If I _could_ stay, I would, but that's not an option. Not a realistic one at least," he mumbled. Breaking his contract would be expensive-- more money than he had to spare-- and would put a black mark on his resume. If the one place that had employed him for so long only had bad things to say about him and he had breaking a contract on his record... yeah. He didn't like the way his future would look with that. He knew that if he asked, Tony would loan-- or, more accurately, _give_ \-- him the money, but he didn't want to ask him for a favor like that, not to mention that it would still ruin any references he had in the military. He took a deep breath. "It's not even for a year, I'll be back soon." Not soon enough, but it wasn't going to be too terribly long, and that's what he kept telling himself: that he wasn't going to be gone for very long so nothing terrible was going to happen.

"Hm." Rhodey didn't say much else, going about making his coffee. They waited in tense silence as the coffee brewed. Steve drank some of his water, but his swallowing seemed uncomfortably loud. It wasn't until Rhodey's cup was full and he'd stirred in milk that he spoke again. "He's not going to take it well."

Steve winced. "I know. But me and Bucky have--"

"I meant Tony," Rhodey said, interrupting him. "Although, yeah I'm sure Bucky isn't going to take it well either."

Steve blinked rapidly, like his vision would clear and suddenly he would know what Rhodey was talking about. "Why would Tony care?"

"I can't give you a logical reason," Rhodey said with a shrug," because I'm not sure Tony will have one."

"Then what makes you think he'd be upset?"

"He doesn't like when people leave." He put his mug on the table and lowered into the chair, gesturing to himself with one hand as he did so. "Look at me; we've been friends for years, and it bothers him every single time that I go back to work, even though when I visit him we both know that it's only a week long thing. He knows that I'm coming back, and he knows that I'm not choosing to leave, but it still bothers him."

"That's different,” Steve argued. “You guys are best friends. I care about Tony but we're not... you know." Steve trailed off, gesturing vaguely. "Besides, what do you expect me to do about that? I can't stay here just for him." He _would_ , but he _can’t_.

"I can talk to some people for you," Rhodey said, taking a casual sip of his coffee.

"...What?"

"Stark Industries has quite a bit of pull with the military. I'd have to talk to him about it, but he'd probably take a profit cut on the next shipment if it got you to stay." When Steve raised his eyebrows in stunned disbelief, Rhodey tapped his fingers on the tabletop, planning it out. "You staying would just be to sweeten the pot for us, of course."

"Of course," Steve echoed numbly, because it seemed like the thing to say at Rhodey's expectant pause.

"It would be good press, and we could tell the generals or whoever the fuck that it's an apology for cutting the weapons contracts. They'll still be pissed, but that's not something Tony's going to bend on, so they might as well take what he's willing to give them. Which they will, of course. They can act above it all all they want, but nothing changes the fact that their next best option is a fifty percent drop in effectiveness."

"Really?" That much? Steve knew that Stark _weapons_ were undoubtedly better, but he knew less about their other products in comparison to other companies' products.  

Rhodey shrugged. "If Stark Industries wasn't good, they wouldn't be able to get away with charging as much as they do."

"Huh." Steve leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the cap of the water bottle in front of him. "So uh..."

"Don't go anywhere yet." Rhodey poked Steve's bag with his toe. "I'm gonna talk to Tony and get the okay from him, then call up..."

"Colonel Phillips," Steve supplied.

Rhodey nodded. "Colonel Phillips, and I'll at least get you an extension. We good?" Rhodey asked, getting to his feet.

Steve nodded dumbly. "Yeah. Rhodey?" Rhodey paused in the doorway and turned back towards him. "Thanks."

He smiled. "No problem man. Anything to keep Tony happy, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao now Steve and Rhodey are the ones not being direct about what they want. Credit Tony allll you want Rhodes, nobody's gonna believe you


	11. Finally Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Sorry about the wait but I couldn't-- for the LIFE OF ME-- figure out how to end it. Please note that tags have been modified :D

"Hey Tony?" 

"Hm?" Tony set down his fork and unclenched his jaw, hoping that Rhodey wouldn't notice since it looked like he had something else on his mind. 

"You'd let me do something not entirely ethical to keep Steve here right?" 

"If the court asks, no. Off the record, obviously. How unethical are we talking?" 

"Nothing we'd get arrested for." 

"Sounds a little dull. Full steam ahead Colonel." 

He nodded, started to turn, then stopped. "You okay Tones?" 

"Course I am, why wouldn't I be?" 

"Because you've got waffles in front of you that you aren't touching. No appetite?" he asked worriedly. A lack of appetite wasn't the worst thing to happen to him in recent time though, so Rhodey took it as a tentative sign that things were getting better. 

"Yeah. Think I'm getting a brainwave, so I'll head down to the 'shop. You can have this if you want," he said, nudging the plate towards him as he stood. 

"Nah I think I'll get started on extending Steve's leave." 

"You can do something to keep him here permanently if you want." 

Rhodey paused. "You mean it?" 

"Yeah. Get that All-American dick Rhodey." 

He blushed. "That's not- oh my god Tony just go cuddle your boyfriend and leave me alone before you keep saying such weird shit." 

"Mmhmm," Tony hummed, completely unconvinced with Rhodey's fumbling. "I'll leave you to it then." Honestly, who did Rhodey think he was kidding? He hadn't been able to lie to Tony consistently since they were in their early twenties. Granted Tony wasn't all that great at lying to him either, so at least it was a two-way street. He walked to the elevator, and Jarvis brought him down to the workshop. He flexed his fingers, curling them in and then stretching them out, then doing it all again. 

"Sir?" 

"Yeah J?" 

"Does your hand have a cramp? Perhaps it would be best to visit Bucky as Colonel Rhodes suggested." 

Tony stilled himself. "I'm fine J. Don't worry so much." 

"Hm." Jarvis had become overprotective since the attack with Stane. It was cute in a way, but it meant that Tony wasn't able to ignore the situation like he wanted. 

Not that Tony knew what he could do down there that he wouldn't need the fingers on his right hand for, or something that wouldn't require lifting something heavy. And he sure as hell wouldn't be able to do anything without Jarvis noticing. The doors opened to the 'shop, and Tony found that he didn't care to step inside. DUM-E was asleep in his charging station, and none of his projects called to him. He could start something new, but honestly he didn't have any ideas. And his mind wasn't whirring with the need to create, or even to keep busy. 

He sighed, dropping his head back to rest on the wall of the elevator. "Where's Bucky?" 

"Your floor sir, in the bathroom." 

"Take me there, then J." 

"Of course sir." He closed the elevator doors and started the elevator. It was a silent ride, but for once that suited Tony just fine. He didn't know what was wrong with him lately, but things that used to make him happy didn't anymore. Thankfully that didn't apply to spending time with Bucky, so he was more than content to sit in a room with him and listen to him talk-- if he wanted to talk, which he didn't always want, so they sometimes sat in silence as they watched a show or movie. 

Tony didn't give much thought to the fact that Bucky was in the bathroom, didn't connect the reason was his heart was beating an uncomfortable and irregular pattern in his chest until he was standing at the threshold. 

Afraid of a shower. It sounded stupid, yet thinking of it that way did nothing to make him feel better. He swallowed down his panic and knocked loudly. "Bucky?" 

"Tony?" 

"Yeah," he called back. 

"Come in!" 

Tony stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The room was filled with steam, and that helped him remove it from... before. That had been freezing cold, but this was warm and comforting. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah," he said, surprised to find it was honest. He closed the toilet lid and sat on top of it. "You know, we never had that date." 

"Huh?" 

"The date we planned before all this? We were going to talk about us?" Tony couldn't hide the hurt in his voice that Bucky had forgotten about this. Maybe he should drop it since this was a pretty clear answer for if they were going to be serious about each other. 

"Oh! Sorry I couldn't hear you." He slid the translucent door open a little and stuck his head near the opening. "When were you thinking about going?" 

Tony blinked, getting whiplash from the back and forth his emotions were doing. "Uh. This weekend?" 

"It's Friday," Bucky mused, tucking back inside the shower but leaving the door cracked open. "Do you mean these next couple days or next weekend?" 

In all honesty, Tony had chosen it because it seemed safe, but now he needed to actually think about it. He didn't feel all that stable emotionally, but putting it off an entire week wouldn't make him feel any better. "Tonight okay?" 

"Yeah," he said, sounding surprised. Hopefully that was because Tony had chosen a time sooner than he'd expected and not because he didn't know how to get out of it. "I'll finish up in here and then we can go." 

"Sounds good." This would be the part where Tony gets up and leaves, or comes up with a reason why he came inside in the first place, and  _ then _ leaves. Instead, he leans back against the toilet tank and asks, "Is it okay if I stay in here?" 

There was a pause, where normal people would be making a face and say 'No you weirdo', but both of them were far from normal. After the scare they'd had recently, it made Bucky say, "Yeah of course." 

They didn't say much as Bucky finished his shower. He asked after the bots, but Tony didn't have any good stories, so the conversation was over after a minute. 

"How's the arm?" His prosthetic was cleared for use in showers, mostly to see how it would hold up. Dr. Cho assured Bucky that it wouldn't shock him or anything like that, so he figured there was no reason to avoid bathing because of it. 

"It's fine." 

"Not too hot?" 

Bucky made a noise. "It's a little warm, but I'm getting out soon." 

Tony nodded to himself. It felt like seconds, but it was certainly a few minutes later that Bucky was turning off the water and reaching his prosthetic out of the shower to grab a towel from the rack. He should make a note of this as possibly lost time, but that thought evaporated in a hurry when Bucky slid the door all the way open and kept toweling at his hair. 

God he was just... he was so gorgeous, and lately it was like he didn't realize it. He'd known, before all of this, how true that was, but when he'd lost his arm, he lost that confidence. That didn't change the fact that Tony wanted to lick him all over, somehow in that moment though, all Tony wanted was to be close to him. Intimate without sex wasn't a phrase Tony was personally familiar with, but that's definitely what he wanted right now. 

Bucky caught him staring since he was being extremely obvious about it, and he looked away with a blush. Although that could have been the heat from the shower. 

"Can I hold you?" Tony found himself asking. 

"Yeah, I- sure." Bucky reached for his boxer-briefs, but Tony stopped him. 

"No I mean... like this?" 

He didn't move for a minute, and Tony held his breath. He didn't say anything when he made his decision, just walked a couple feet over to where Tony was sitting and sat on his lap. Tony let out a long breath, wrapping his arms around Bucky's waist and resting his head on Bucky's shoulder, his eyelids fluttering shut. Bucky lifted one hand and started running his fingers through Tony's hair, wiggling through a knot or two that he found in the process. 

"You sure you're up for a date tonight?" Bucky asked softly. 

"I'm fine," Tony responded, but the words lacked the defensive bite he'd become accustomed to. He actually felt fine. 

* * *

Then went out to dinner, and it was strangely difficult to find the right place for their date. They couldn't go to their usual diner or burger place because there was no privacy in a place like that, and while Bucky didn't think anyone would be intentionally eavesdropping, it was a personal conversation they were going to be having. It wasn't a high class five star restaurant either, but it was up there. The sort of place Bucky would have had to save up for to visit, but not so expensive that it was completely outside the realm of possibility for him back when he was a working john. 

Private little booths and nicely dressed waiters populated the floor, and they were led to a corner table. Bucky wondered if Tony had asked for that spot specifically so that they'd be able to see the rest of the room without having their backs to anyone. They declined the offer of wine-- or any other alcoholic beverage-- and settled in to look at the menu. 

"I'm not sure I can pronounce half of this," Bucky said, eyeing the French looking words doubtfully. 

"Well you've got three options. Either you pick something else, I order for both of us, or I teach you how to pronounce what you want before Alexei-" their waiter "-comes back." 

Bucky made a face, looking over the menu. "I'll choose something else." 

"We can go somewhere else if you like." 

"Nah," Bucky said, shaking his head, "I'm just being an ass. Plus I don't know what I'm in the mood for even though I'm hungry so it's making me grumpy. What are you getting?" 

Tony said the name of the dish, and Bucky blinked at him blankly. "It's beef and sauce." 

Bucky frowned and looked at the menu again. "Can I make you choose something for me? Is that fair?" 

Tony chuckled. "Yeah baby, I got you." 

They didn't talk as they waited for Alexei to make his way back around to them, opting to sit in a comfortable silence. Tony was tapping his fingers together under the table as he stared at the tablecloth, and Bucky was idly watching the other dinners going on. Mostly it was other couples, but there was one that was a father/daughter dinner-- at least Bucky  _ hoped _ that's what it was-- and another that looked like a business meeting. 

Tony ordered, and for some reason this time the silence felt charged after Alexei left. 

"So," Bucky said, shifting in his seat. "Who starts?" He had a light version of the prosthetic back on his shoulder, and he wanted to mess with it. He couldn't though because Dr. Cho had specifically told him not to tug on it and risk making his bruises worse. 

"I don't know," Tony said, equally uncomfortable now that the time had come for them to be honest. It's not that Tony didn't want to, but it was one thing to be honest in the moment, and quite another to have a planned time for it. 

Bucky took a deep breath. "Okay well, I'm half in love with you, and I'd like to call you my partner. Or boyfriend, it doesn't actually matter which one. I like living with you, and I want to keep doing it." 

"I..." Tony swallowed. "I want that too. And I- I love you. I think you already knew that, but assumptions haven't ended all that well for us in the past." 

"Yeah. And, while we're at it, let's agree to not try and do what's best for the other person without asking." 

Tony nodded. "Definitely." Tony closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "Okay here goes. Do you remember when I told you that there might be some lingering damage? From when I almost died?" Did die, if he wanted to get technical, but since it didn't stick Tony didn't see the need to refer to it that way. 

"Yeah." Bucky bit back the automatic question of 'Is something wrong?' because it was clear Toy was going to reach it in his own time if he didn't try and rush it. 

"Well I uh-" he licked his lips "-I know what it is." 

"Okay." 

Tony set his hands on the table. "I lost some fine motor skills. It's- it's not safe for me to build the way I used to, and you can't be an engineer with one hand." 

"No offense Tony, but that's bullshit." 

Tony was so shocked that he didn't even look offended. 

"It won't be the same, and it'll take you some time, but you can't convince me that this is the end for you in R&D." 

"I... appreciate your confidence in me." He gave a rueful smile. "I hope I can prove you right someday." 

"You will." 

Tony's smile turned a little more real, and Bucky smiled back automatically. 

"And you know Tony, even if-- somehow-- you can't do that anymore, I'll be here with you for all of it, just like you were for me." 

"They're not the same," Tony said, rolling his eyes, but he was still smiling. 

Bucky shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "Close enough." He paused. "Hey Tony?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Love you." 

He laughed, and for the moment, his worry and fear about his hand were gone. "Love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [@cami-chats](http://cami-chats.tumblr.com)


End file.
